


Foreign Territory

by Macx



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 97,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney and John have been missing for three days, but for them three months passed. And something happened on M7B-377 that changed their relationship in a way that nothing has ever before. Something that happened to Sheppard. Something only Rodney knows and he has to keep the secret.<br/>based on my the Borderlines AU, which is uploaded on AO3 completely. The crossover start with chapter 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. M7B-377

**Author's Note:**

> We gave Kavanagh the first name 'Calvin' because at the time this was written, the first name wasn't known.

 

 

"Incoming wormhole."

She had heard it a thousand times and each time she stood at the control station or near the railing, anticipation knotting her stomach into a tight fist. Every time she waited for her teams to come back safely, without losses, without injuries. Every time she held her breath, arms either crossed firmly in front of her chest or hanging with clenched fists at her sides, and every time she would exhale softly when everyone made it through.

Elizabeth Weir felt her heart hammer in her chest with this well-known anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the news – any news -- while the water-like blue shimmer of the open wormhole plunged the Gateroom into a strange light. It would never lose its fascination and attraction, but she was aware that every time the Stargate opened, danger lurked behind that beautiful surface.

"It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC," the controller announced.

She exhaled softly, but the tension didn't lessen. The event horizon distorted as their travelers made it through.

Stumbling through the Gate, John Sheppard had one arm thrown around Rodney McKay’s shoulder, held up by the other man, and Elizabeth thought she could almost hear the rock falling from her heart hit the floor.

They were back.

“Dr. Beckett?”

It hadn’t been necessary. Carson Beckett was already at their side in no time. With him, a medical team swarmed around the two men.

“He’s only a little banged up,” Rodney said. “The idiot tripped.”

He didn't sound too bad, Elizabeth decided. Both men looked dusty, unshaven, and their clothes had seen better times. In Sheppard's case, the clothes were more like rags, kept together by what looked like the attempt to stitch something that had been torn apart. He had a blanket knotted around his trembling frame. Maybe they were both a little on the thin side, which puzzled her a bit, but neither was bleeding from bullet wounds, knife cuts or had arrows sticking out. It was a plus. Elizabeth counted her blessings in that regard.

They were back.

Still, she was curious as to why Sheppard looked like Raggedy Andy.

“Tripped?” Beckett inquired as he motioned for a gurney to be brought closer.

“Yeah.” Sheppard managed to look sheepish. “I just wanted to… well, that’s a long story. I think I sprained something.”

“Aye, that you did,” Beckett confirmed.

"Like I said. He was being an idiot. I told him not to, but does he ever listen to me? No!" Rodney went on, clearly on a run. "Spent so much time surviving the great outdoors on some backwater mudball of a planet, but does he listen? Does he? No, he's being the boy scout and knows everything so much better!"

Sheppard glared at him and Rodney glared back, looking almost ridiculous in his dirty uniform that had clearly seen better days. Both men were in dire need of a shower, a good shave and a long sleep. Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a curl of anxiety as she watched them interact. Her gut instinct told her that something had happened. Their state spoke of it.

“Infirmary, now,”  Beckett decided.

Sheppard sighed softly as he regarded the gurney with disdain, but he knew better than to argue with their Chief Medical Officer. He could only lose.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth called out to their missing physicist. “Good to have you back.”

There was a strange look flashing over McKay's face for a second before he just nodded.

“Thanks.”

"Go and let Carson have a look at you," she told him.

Rodney grimaced, but he followed the entourage of medical personnel. She heard him mutter something under his breath and had to smile.

They were back.

Safe and sound.

 

* * *

 

Rodney followed Sheppard into the infirmary, watching as Beckett checked him out and bandaged the sprained foot. The Colonel grimaced as Beckett poked and prodded, then started to tighten the bandage.

"It's a sprain," the medic confirmed. "Nothing broken."

"I figured."

"It could have been a break," Rodney argued. "You're not a medical doctor!"

"No, but I know what a break feels like," Sheppard shot back.

Both men looked tired and Rodney felt like he hadn't slept properly in weeks. Well, it came close to the truth.

"And I know what an idiot looks like," the physicist snarked, glaring at his team commander and friend.

"What happened?" Beckett asked calmly.

"He was being an idiot. Didn't look where he went and stepped into a gopher hole. Alien gophers," Rodney added with a  wave. "Bug, alien gophers. Nearly took his leg off."

"It was just a hole in the ground, Rodney," Sheppard shot back. "And I didn't see it!"

"Because you didn't look!"

"So I didn't, go make something of it!"

"Finally he admits to it!"

Carson suddenly smiled and both men glared at him.

"What's so funny?" Rodney demanded.

"Oh, nothing. Rodney. You're next. I want a full physical."

"I'm fine."

"It's standard procedure, even for brief periods of MIA," Beckett explained patiently.

"You call three months brief?" Rodney's voice rose.

The Scot frowned. "What are you talking about? You were gone three days."

Sheppard's eyes were suddenly wide and he looked at McKay, who could only gape.

"Carson, I don't know how to break it to you," John said, "but we were on that hell hole of a planet for three months…"

Beckett only touched his headpiece and called for Elizabeth.

 

* * *

 

The debriefing had been long and, for Rodney, painfully slow. First he had caught up with things from Atlantis's side of the Gate, which wasn't all that much. Three days had passed here since Ronon and Teyla had gone back through the Gate to get help to find their missing team mates. They had run into trouble after arriving back in Atlantis since any attempt to redial the Gate address had been met by failure. Radek and everyone else who had even a vague idea how to help had been working on solving the problem. Sending a Puddlejumper would have taken weeks and the Daedalus had been too far away to be of any immediate help. Elizabeth had briefed Caldwell, telling him to stand by in case they were the last option, and then the Gate had activated and Rodney and John had made it home.

Huh. Home. A home where only three days had passed.

"I hate physics," Sheppard muttered and buried his head in his hands.

For once, McKay had to agree, though he didn't say it out loud. He just glared at the Colonel.

"Physics is what got us here," he pointed out snarkily. "Physics is what explains the wormholes and Stargates, and it lets you shoot people with your big guns!"

"Physics is your friend," Sheppard quipped.

"Yes, and you better believe it."

The whole time delay was a fascinating problem, but one that had to wait for a solution. Right now Rodney had bigger problems on his plate.

Like what had happened on the planet.

<Not a word about it!>

He threw Sheppard an acid glare. For someone who didn't want to remember or even acknowledge that something between them had changed, he sure knew when to use that change. The others in the room didn't associate the glare with something none of them would be able to hear. Evil looks traded between the two men were nothing new.

<What? You think I'd tell them anything that went on there? After you so nicely threatened me? Please!>

Brown eyes peeked out behind spread fingers. There was a fire in there that Rodney hadn't seen in a long time, and he sent a nasty smirk. Sheppard raised his head. He looked tired and not much better compared to their last hours on that hellhole, just before Rodney had dialed home. Rodney knew they were both at the end of their physical as well as mental capacities.

Three long months…

"I think we should let you both get some rest now," Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts. "We'll talk later."

"Sounds like a plan," the Colonel muttered and pushed back from the table.

Rodney watched him go, then rose as well. He was exhausted and he knew Beckett would haunt them for a full physical later on.

He just hoped nothing of what had happened to John would show up on the scanners or they were screwed.

<You mean I'm screwed>

<Oh shut up!>

 

* * *

 

Rodney sighed heavily as he slid under the -  soft -  covers of his - soft - bed. Sleeping on makeshift beds on the ground for three months hadn’t been very kind to his back, and he was more than glad to be back on Atlantis.

God, Rodney had never been so glad to see an MRE. Carson had remarked on his weight loss and Rodney knew he could use a few less pounds, but he would have preferred a less drastic diet. And he still shuddered at the thought of what he had eaten on M7B-377.

Oh yuck. It was a miracle he hadn't been allergic to anything that had crawled, jumped or grown there. He had survived this backwater mud bucket and he was back home. In his bed, with his special mattress, with his laptop on his desk, with his research, his books, his music, and his food.

Why did he feel so lonely then?

 

* * *

 

John stood in his quarters, his eyes roaming over what had come to be his home away from Earth in the last two years. There were a few personal things adorning the surfaces of his drawer, night stand and desk. He had books on his book shelf, all of them in various states of reading. He hadn't really made a dent in _War and Peace_ , but he was still planning to finish it one day.

Everything looked familiar, but a part of him wasn't really home. Part of him was on the planet.

 

 

 _He wandered through the ruins of what might have been an Ancient outpost, only absentmindedly registering Rodney's excited chatter. Rodney was easily distracted and easily frightened, so having found a planet that seemed uninhabited and peaceful was a real change for once. No reason to become sloppy, though. There was a Gate on_   
_M7B-377_   
_, so there was a chance of getting surprised by Wraith. Slim, but still there._

 _It wasn't a temple, so much was clear. Even for him. It looked like a large complex, most of it collapsed in on itself, but there were a few walls still upright and there were inscriptions that had Rodney jump up and down with excitement. There was even talk about bringing a science team here._

 _Oh well._

 _John poked at a wall and continued his patrol. Ronon and Teyla had taken up their positions, keeping an eye out on unwanted visitors, though Teyla had assured them that this place had always been without people. The Athosians had been here before, but since there had been no trading partners, they had forgotten about this world._

 _John walked around a corner into another part of the ruins that looked exactly like any other part – ruined._

 _Except for the door._

 _Or whatever else that thing might be. It looked a lot like a door to John, big enough to let a man walk through and slightly circular, with some runes and symbols carved into the metal. Getting curious, he stepped closer, and almost grinned as the signs started to glow faintly. Ancient all right._

 _He opened his mouth to call for Rodney – who would most certainly insist he touch it – when the earth bucked beneath his feet and almost made him loose his footing. Damn. Earthquake. There had been no indication that the planet was unstable. Turning he wanted to call out for the others when the whirring sound made him look around._

 _… pulling sensation…_

 _… cells being ripped…_

 _… torn apart…_

 _John screamed._

 

 

He shuddered and pushed the thought away. Sheppard started to strip, throwing the clothes aside. He probably needed new ones, but he didn't care right now. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to forget, but he knew it would be hard to come by one or the other.

For a moment he was tempted to talk to Rodney, but he shut that thought out.

John sank carefully onto the bed, his foot aching, but it was bearable. The painkillers had been a big help, but he knew the moment they wore off, he'd be back in hell. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, let sleep take him, but he couldn't.

This felt wrong.

All of it was wrong.

He was home, but the three months had left him wanting… something. Something he knew he couldn't have.

Maybe never again.

 

 

 _The open plains, a fire burning in the cool night, Rodney curled up in the sleeping bag. He was still muttering about the uncomfortable conditions, but this was a lot better than sleeping without any cover. The backpacks contained enough gear for survival in the wilderness, and while McKay wasn't exactly a boy scout, he wasn't stupid either. He had picked up a few things from Sheppard and the others in their time on Atlantis._

 _John moved closer, the need to be close to the only person he had right now rising._

 

 

Sheppard clenched his teeth and beat his fist against his pillow. No way! He didn't miss the company. He was glad to be alone again. Three months of Rodney McKay as his only company had been…

…how he had survived.

He screwed his eyes shut, cursing.

But he remembered the gentle, reassuring touches on his flank, stroking, calming, giving him something to focus on when he felt his panic take over.

Oh god…

His foot hurt and he welcomed the pain. It gave him something to fight the memories with and he was close to banging the sprained ankle against the wall, just make it hurt worse.

<Don't> a voice murmured sleepily.

John turned away from the familiar presence, shutting everything out.

This was over.

Completely.

 

* * *

 

It had been a bad night, filled with memories of their adventure, if it could be called an adventure. Rodney had tried sleeping, but it had only ended in him tossing and turning until he had been wide awake and grumpy as hell.

 

 

 _The rumbling of the ground underneath his feet made Rodney stop what he had been doing and freeze._

 _“Was that an earthquake? Of course it was an earthquake. Nobody told me we are walking on the Pegasus equivalent of the San Andreas Fault here. It would be asked too much for a nice and peaceful planet once in a while, would it? How am I supposed to actually work under these conditions?”_

 _The tremors increased and Rodney gave a cry of surprise when he lost his footing as part of the ground he had been standing on dropped down. He tumbled head over heels and felt his shoulder strike something – ow, this would leave a bruise! – and then there was a flash of light._

 _And nothingness._

 

He still had no idea what exactly had happened that moment, if he had triggered something or if the others had touched or kicked or looked at something the wrong way. Rodney needed to evaluate the scanner data he had collected and the scanner was still with Beckett, who had probably kicked it over to the lab for storage.

Rodney sighed.

He didn't look forward to the next debriefing this morning. What could he really say about what had happened? The truth? Oh yeah, right. It didn't take a genius to know what would happen next. A psych eval with Heightmeyer for him and a complete physical with even worse probing for Sheppard. And that was the good scenario. The bad one was a rubber cell.

He shuddered and turned to his laptop. He hooked it up to the Atlantis mainframe and waded through the reports his staff had filed in the past days. It would keep him awake until the morning.

 _I should be freaking_ , he thought to himself as he mindlessly scrolled through the pages. _Now is the time for it. We're home. I can lose it over what happened in those three months._

But strangely enough he couldn't. He wasn't freaking out over the events. He wasn't ranting and babbling and crying like an insane idiot. He felt strangely… calm and resolute and in control.

And he wondered how long that would last.

With the memories and the still existing connection between him and Sheppard, Rodney didn't give himself a lot of time.

 

He actually fell asleep over the little machine an hour later.

 

* * *

 

Their first night back in Atlantis had passed almost the same for both men. Sheppard had slept badly, but he attributed it to the aching ankle. Rodney hadn't lost a word about the little sleep he had managed to catch. Even his own bed hadn't been enticing enough for him to relax, to lose himself in the nothingness his mind descended into throughout sleep. After a shower he had felt marginally better, but not really good.

Coffee might help. So he had gone down into the mess hall and poured himself a huge cup, but the black liquid had been unappealing to say the very least. Still he had drunk it.

It tasted better than what he had had to do with on M7B-377. A lot better.

Still no freaking.

Good. He wanted to hang on to sanity a bit longer.

After his third cup, feeling still so bone-tired that every move ached, Rodney had at least acknowledged the world around him, even if it was only as a grunt to one or two scientists greeting him.

He had briefly checked on Sheppard, but he had almost gotten the proverbial blow in the face when he had touched the other man through that strange connection. Now he had a headache, too. It made him grumpy enough for even the most hardiest of his staff to avoid him until after breakfast.

Rodney rubbed his forehead and sighed. He should be happy to be back on Atlantis, but the change from wilderness to semi-civilization had come with a price he hadn't been ready to pay. John Sheppard had cut him off from a new discovery: the mind link. The scientist in him was fascinated, but not as much as the human being in him was… delighted.

Why wasn't he scared by this? Why wasn't this intrusion into his most private of thoughts having him protest with indignation? Why hadn't he fought Sheppard's presence tooth and claw?

Because it had been their only way of communication. Because he had grown accustomed to it. Because a small part of him said it was right, it was normal.

He huffed. Right. Normal. Not by a long shot. Not even for this galaxy. Having another person in your head, and Cadman and that blasted incident didn't count, wasn't normal. But maybe it had paved the way? Still, no comparison, Rodney argued with himself. Lieutenant Cadman had lived in his body, her own trapped in a Wraith dart, and Colonel Sheppard was only linked to him.

Rodney sighed and massaged his forehead. He craved answers, but he wasn't the right person to find them. He also needed more data and that would be hard to come by.

His scanner.

He had to get to his scanner and work with what little he had been able to gather.

But first he had to go through the briefing and he was so not looking forward to it.

 

* * *

 

Rodney sat next to Sheppard, very much aware of the other man in more than a physical sense, and it hurt to see him so pale and tired, right down to plain exhausted. Beckett had given them both a hard look, muttering about physicals, and Rodney just hoped to get through the next few hours without dropping any insane remarks about shape-changing and alien horses.

"I don't know what triggered whatever was inside the ruin," Sheppard now answered Elizabeth's question. "There was an earthquake, a sudden bright light, then nothing."

Rodney nodded. "Same here. I woke up, alone, not anywhere even close to the ruins, and there was only my stuff."

He still remembered the terror he had felt of being completely alone. He had been in the middle of nowhere, his gear there, his communicator not working, and there had been no sign of the Gate.

There was an echoing shudder from Sheppard and Rodney resisted the temptation to turn to look at him. He knew this kind of shudder, this fear, because it was a mirrored fear from the instinctual side of the alien creature he had found a few hours later.

"Communication was somehow dead," Sheppard continued, sounding remarkably steady. "I was in a forest, there was no one around, so I started walking. It looked like the same planet, especially with the sun and the half moon that had been there when we arrived."

Rodney had figured the same, so he nodded his agreement. He left out the fact that he had found all of Sheppard's clothes, too.

 _All around him was nothing but landscape. A wild, beautiful landscape, with tall grass, far away mountains and the occasional boulder. Behind him stretched a whole forest of strange trees, all of them looking like no tree he had ever seen before. They were tall with a dark, nearly black bark. The leaves had a bluish tinge and were shaped like triangles._   
__

_"Good god, he's out there naked," McKay murmured, staring at the ripped apart clothing in shock._

 _But why would a man like Sheppard tear off his clothes and then walk off? Gone mad? Even the head gear was there! There was no blood, indicating an attack, but why would Sheppard rip apart his clothes? And leave everything? He even had the man's dog tags! Rodney busied himself for a few minutes collecting every item. He had his backpack, he had Sheppard's, so there was food. All he was missing to make this perfect was a naked Lieutenant Colonel._

 _Now that sounded just plain wrong._

 _His eyes fell on the soft ground and he frowned. There were tracks. McKay wasn't a boy scout or a tracker, but he could distinguish hoof prints from human feet, and these looked definitely like hoof prints._

 _They led away from the general area where he had woken up._

 _Civilization maybe? Or were there horse-like life forms?_

 _Rodney scanned the horizon and found nothing. Not a single larger animal than the birds in the sky. And they weren't any larger than sea gulls._

 _Hefting the second backpack, the physicist tried communications one more time, then sighed dejectedly. Great. Lost on some mudball of a planet, probably half the planet away from the Gate, and he had lost their mighty leader, who was probably running naked around as the day he had been born._

 _Could this get any worse?_

 

 

It had gotten worse, but that wasn't for anyone else to know. Sheppard had made that clear. For whatever reason the Colonel insisted on keeping some details of their little adventure to himself.

<Colonel…> he poked.

<Not a word, McKay>

<They need to know>

<They don't!> was the sharp reply and Rodney briefly closed his eyes at the stab behind his forehead.

"Rodney?" Carson inquired. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, just a headache. Happens. Didn't sleep well." The doctor frowned, but Rodney waved him off. "Let's just get this over with. I've got work to do."

Elizabeth nodded. Carson just remained his worried self.

"We ran into each other," Sheppard continued. "Took it from there. It was a long walk, but we figured out where the strange device had transported us. We didn't know about the change in time zones between Atlantis and this world until we came back."

Elizabeth nodded. "Apparently one day isn't really a month on this world, since the return of Ronon and Teyla was within our time zone. And because we couldn't dial out again, we never had a clue."

Rodney grimaced. "We need better maintenance for the Stargate."

"It wasn't a technical problem," Zelenka immediately interrupted, sounding indignant. "We dialed and the address existed, but the wormhole refused to connect."

"Human error then."

Because Rodney refused to believe that they might have been stuck there forever, that only they could dial out.

"We can try again if you don't believe me," Radek told him firmly.

Rodney waved a hand. "Why would I want to go back? I lost enough of my time as it is."

And he didn't want to set foot on that planet ever again. Not if he could help it. The scanner data would be enough. And maybe there was something about this strange transformation device in the Ancient data base.

"I recommend two weeks of recovery time," Carson interrupted his train of thought. "There is the Colonel's sprained ankle, and you both lost sleep and weight. I want regular checks for the two of you." Stern eyes told the two men that a missed exam would be punished by a long, pointy needle into a sensitive area.

"Yes, yes," Rodney muttered. "Go and threaten the genius."

"I'm fine," Sheppard no protested as well. "It's just a sprain."

"You survived three months under almost hostile conditions," Elizabeth added. "You will take the time off, Colonel. It's an order."

He grimaced.

"Are we done now?" Rodney whined.

Elizabeth smiled a little. "Yes, we are. It's good to have you both back, gentlemen."

Rodney almost fled the room, very much aware of Sheppard behind him.

"Uh, you wanna go to lunch?" he asked hesitantly.

John looked at him in mild confusion, then shook his head. "Not hungry." And then he walked past.

Rodney felt an inexplicable stab of pain.

 

* * *

 

It took him two hours to have lunch, a lonely lunch at that, and evade whoever wanted to talk to him. He was on leave, goddamnit! Teyla had welcomed him back in that dignified, graceful way of hers, and Ronon had just given him a long, hard look as if trying to determine whether he was a disguised Wraith or not.

Rodney fled to the well-known surroundings of the lab and was relieved to find so few people here. One of them was Zelenka. The Czech looked up when Rodney entered.

"Rodney?"

"Yes, yes, we're all beside ourselves with joy about my return," he muttered. "Where's my stuff?"

Zelenka gestured toward Rodney's work desk and McKay descended upon his scanner like a hawk. The device looked banged up, was dirty, but it was still functional.

"I thought Dr. Beckett had taken you off duty?" Zelenka pointed out.

"I'm just here to…" he gestured, "check on things, you know."

"Ah."

Rodney ignored him as he ran through the contents file of the scanner, pleased to see all the little files he had made.

"You must tell us about M7B-377," Radek interrupted his thoughts. "A different passage of time?"

Rodney grunted. "Nothing interesting there."

They had run into something like it before, but back then it had been Sheppard trapped behind this strange time veil all by himself, going native with wanna-be ascendents. It wasn't the same.

"You were gone for three days, Rodney," Zelenka said quietly. "And you spent three months on that planet. The gate wouldn't dial to the address, whatever we tried, and you took months to make it work from your end."

Rodney glared at the other man. "I didn't take months to make it work!" he exclaimed indignantly. "I had to walk through the big outdoors to get back to the Stargate first! And then I just dialed and it worked perfectly! I don't know what you blundered around if you couldn't even get there. Now let me work!"

And he stalked out of the lab, clutching the scanner, feeling the headache increase.

 

* * *

 

Maybe it was the return to civilization. Maybe it was Atlantis itself. Maybe it was just the stress of three months finally finding an outlet since there was no new addition to it. Rodney McKay found himself flashing back to M7B-377 over and over again. Whenever he didn't busy his mind with the data collected, he found himself staring off into space, part of him reaching for the mind connection that Sheppard refused to acknowledge, unless he wanted to rant at him throughout the briefing.

What had happened to them was too fantastic for words. Since the expedition had come to the Pegasus galaxy a lot of fantastic things had happened. And bodily transformations had taken place, too. Sheppard had become a bug person, for example. So shape-changing wasn't really that strange. It was just the fact that an Ancient machine on a deserted planet had spluttered to life one more time and yielded such an incredible result.

Sheppard refused to even touch the topic, or look at Rodney, let alone be close to him. They were back for twenty-four hours and hadn't really seen much of each other.

Rodney felt another little stab of loneliness.

It had been so strangely easy to get used to living in the wild, having Sheppard there in a completely inhuman shape, and hearing his mind voice. For all the bickering and snarking, it had been… nice. And somehow the bickering had been their savior from insanity.

 

 

 _Rodney wasn't much of an animal person. Well, he loved his cat, but everything larger than her had kept him at a healthy distance. Dogs were fine as long as they didn't slobber all over him. He didn't like anything that was larger than himself, so he had had a healthy respect for horses, among other animals._

 _Now he was looking at one, and it was the strangest horse. It was huge. Larger than any horse Rodney had ever seen. but not heavy set like a work horse. It was actually quite elegant. It had a deeply brown coat, almost black, with a black mane and tail. The legs up to its knees were white and made it look even more elegant. The most outstanding feature were the two huge horns growing out of bony ridges over the eyes._

 _Unicorn, Rodney mused almost giddily. With two horns. Does that make it a Duo-corn?_

 _The creature stood in a small clearing, propped against a tree, flanks heaving. Blood had crusted the nice coat, and fresh liquid was still oozing out of the large cut in its side, glistening wetly. The eyes rolled wildly at the sight of Rodney and shivers were running over the muscular body as the animal obviously fought its instincts to run again._

 _If it could still run._

 _It looked exhausted and the wound didn't really appear to be shallow._

 _Nostrils blew open wide, taking in McKay's scent, and it whinnied softly._

 _"Uh, hi," Rodney said before he could even think about the futility of talking to an animal._

 _Where had the horse gotten hurt? Not a horse, he reminded himself. Looks like one, is a lot bigger, and it has horns. Horns, Rodney. Alien life form!_

 _Back to possibly injury sources: predators maybe? If so, what was large and stupid enough to attack this animal? It easily topped Rodney's height at its withers, and the horns looked like dangerous weapons._

 _The horse, yes, damnit, he'd call it a horse, made a soft inquiring noise again. It still trembled, but it was looking more alert now. It was watching Rodney. Great. Now what? He wasn't a vet. He wasn't even good at putting a band-aid on anyone's paper-cut!_

 _Rodney carefully lowered his backpack and the one he carried, Sheppard's, and reached for a power bar. He broke off a small piece and held it up for the horse to see._

 _What the hell was he doing trying to feed this thing? He didn't know, but it was better than leaving the only company he had found. At least for now it was more entertaining than trudging through the wilderness and heading for what he hoped was the right direction for the Gate._

 _The horse's nostrils blew wide again, then it made a hesitant step toward him. Rodney threw the piece of power bar onto the ground. Curious but also wary, the horse approached, sniffed at the morsel, then picked it up with what looked like soft, velvety lips._

 _Rodney had to smile briefly. He broke off a new piece and threw it again, watching as the horse came closer. From here he could see the deep gash and it looked painful. It went right across the shoulder of the left side, extending a little toward the breast._

 _The horse whinnied and he gave it the rest of the power bar. Apparently it had developed a taste for it because next Rodney knew it was approaching at a slight limp and he scrambled back._

 _"Ah hell!" he cried out, then tripped over his backpack and landed heavily on his butt. "Shit!"_

 _The horned head lowered toward him and warm air ghosted over his hands, which he had thrown up in defense. His fingers were sniffed and he tensed, but nothing else happened. There was a soft neighing again, like a question, and he dared to look up. Brown eyes looked back at him and if it hadn't been for the rather sharp looking horns, Rodney would have relaxed. As it was, panic was hovering just over his shoulder._

Panic had settled in and it had scared the horse, freaked Rodney, and he had spent the better part of ten to twenty minutes trying to calm down. Strangely enough the injured animal hadn't run. It had jumped back a bit, had watched him warily, and when Rodney had gathered his things to leave, it had followed. He had tried to shoo it away, but it had stayed, like a dog.

Rodney smiled darkly to himself. If he had known back then… if it had been clear just what had happened… well, nothing much of the following three months would have changed.

How John had found himself again was unclear. Not even the Colonel knew. He claimed he had been there from one minute to the next, aware, knowing who he was, and about to bolt in panic at discovering what had happened.

 

 

 _< Rodney?>_

 _McKay nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice – only, he hadn’t heard it. It had been there, right in his head! He touched one temple, face scrunched up in confusion._

 _“Colonel?” he stuttered._

 _< Yes… uh… Rodney?>_

 _"Yes, it's me. Where are you?"_

 _< I don’t feel so good>  came a soft moan. <What happened? Where am I?>_

 _So, obviously Sheppard could hear him when he spoke out loud._

 _“I don’t know. What do your surroundings look like?”_

 _< Trees, bushes, grass, you… oh god…>_

 _That didn't sound good. A scared Sheppard was never good. Sheppard couldn't be scared. That was Rodney's role, his part. No, no, o, not scared._

 _The large horse snorted and started to prance, flicking its tail in panic and rearing its head._

 _“Colonel?” he inquired shakily._

 _< I can see you, Rodney. I’m… oh god, what am I?>_

 _The alien horse whinnied in fright and its eyes rolled. It danced away from Rodney, tossing its head. Rodney blinked at the large brown equine that stared at him from wide hazel eyes – and it clicked._

 _Oh… god… no. Impossible. Completely and utterly…_

 _But he had seen physical transformations before. He had seen what a virus could do, what an infection was capable of, what alien life forms there were and…_

 _"Sheppard?" he breathed, shocked._

 _The horse reared again, crying in panic and fear._

 _“You are… an alien equine life form…”_

 _More panic washed over him, mindless panic that definitely wasn’t his own._

 _John?_

 _What the…?_

 _Could that…?_

 _The horse stumbled back and Rodney saw blood run down one shoulder. The wound had reopened._

 _"Colonel, calm down!" he called. "You're bleeding again! Calm down!"_

 _< I… what? That… that earthquake… the glow…and it hurt, so much, Rodney. I’m...a horse?>_

 _McKay stared at the beautiful creature, arms still outstretched, palms facing outward. He had come closer, frightened of what this massive horse could do if Sheppard panicked enough to really start running._

 _“Something like that," he answered faintly.  "Bushy tailed and armed.”_

 _< huh?>_

 _“Horns. On your forehead, two of them.”_

 _< oh great…> came the faint reply._

 _This time it wasn’t so much panic as despair, confusion – and fright._

 _Colonel John Sheppard had somehow turned into an alien horse. He was afraid._

 _And somehow Rodney could feel that. He also wasn't made for taking care of animals, let alone formerly human team leaders. Then again, he had seen Sheppard as Iratus Bug Man, too. It had been frightening. More frightening than the horse because back then he had been human to a degree. Now…_

 _Rodney inhaled deeply, steadying himself._

 _"Let me take a look at the injury, okay?" he requested._

 _Sheppard tossed his head, snorting. He was clearly still close to the edge._

 _"John?"_

 _< Y-yes. Okay. What happened to me, Rodney?> he whimpered._

 _Rodney reached out and very carefully, very gently, touched the alien horse._

 _"I don't know. I'll figure it out."_

 _It was probably wishful thinking on his part because they were in the middle of nowhere, with no gear, no real idea what had happened, and his friend was a horse._

 _And the day would probably only get worse…_

 _*_

 _Some time and three powerbars later John had regained a modicum of control over his raging emotions._

 _Which crumpled only minutes later when he discovered that the sun was already setting. Pointed ears flicked nervously and the tail swished several times. The horse danced closer to McKay, nostrils blowing wide._

 _< Rodney…>_

 _There was an unfamiliar sound of pleading and insecurity in that familiar voice. Sheppard had never been insecure or had pleaded with Rodney. Never in his life. Now he was helpless. It turned McKay's stomach._

 _“I’m here, Colonel.”_

 _And he was there. A steady, warm touch to John's neck, the calm voice, and Sheppard whimpered softly in rising panic._

 _"Shhh… it's okay. We'll get through this."_

 _How? Why had this happened? What had caused this? Where were they? Still on the same planet?_

 _There was an almost hysterical quality to the rush of emotions and thoughts. Rodney kept on stroking over the muscular neck. He had discovered that close physical contact helped to calm the Colonel down. Sheppard let him touch him, let him caress the warm neck, down the shoulder, patting his rump. It was weird, but it calmed Rodney as much as it quieted down the upset man… well, horse._

 _"We are still on M7B-377," he told John, then smirked at his wide-eyed look. "I can hear you. Not always, but you leak."_

 _He ran his hand over Sheppard's withers and carefully down his uninjured shoulder._

 _"Does it hurt?"_

 _< I'm fine>_

 _"Yeah, right," Rodney muttered as he studied the other shoulder where the deep wound looked swollen and ugly._

 _It had stopped bleeding and it looked like it was healing, but he hated the fact that he had no idea whether this injury was potentially dangerous for a huge horse or not. Sheppard turned his head, the soft snout touching Rodney's shoulder._

 _< I'm fine> he repeated._

 _Rodney didn't push the head away, actually felt a strange moment of reassurance, then he stepped back from the animal. The horse – John – snorted, ear flicking, and for a moment there was a rush of fear, then it was smothered by the renewed iron control that was the Colonel. Rodney smiled faintly and briefly patted the muscular neck._

 _"Time to make camp, huh?" he asked weakly._

 _Part of him wanted to run off screaming like a girl. Part of him wanted to sit down, stare at nothing in particular, and mumble insanely that this was not happening. Another part was pushing all of that aside, falling into a pattern that had been established in the last two years: no time to be scared. Act now, think later, freak out when you can spare the time._

 _There was no time to spare for it right now._

 _Rodney was so not looking forward to roughing it out here. He had no choice, though. No choice at all._

 _* * *_

 

 _Rodney stared into the dancing flames of the camp fire he had set with John’s help. Well, advice. Sheppard seemed to have calmed down considerably, standing not too far away, tail flicking every now and._

 _< Rodney?>_

 _"Hm?"_

 _< You okay?>_

 _"Sure. Just… I don't like camping. Never did. I'm probably allergic to all kinds of things out here. And whatever I'm not allergic to, it will probably poison me on sight. Not to mention what predators there are." Looking over at the large equine Rodney shook his head slowly. "And then there's… you."_

 _< What?>_

 _“I find it somehow – disturbing to have a conversation with you while you’re.., “ he made an overall gesture, “like this.”_

 _< Like what?>_

 _“You know…  a horse.”_

 _< I’d rather snuggle into a blanket next to you, too>_

 _Sheppard sounded less hysterical than before, but there was an edge to his voice. Not anger, just… the same anxiety Rodney felt and was fighting every hour of the moment. They were both trying to deal with an impossible situation and things were not looking up. If at all, bleak was becoming downright nasty and dark._

 _Rodney stared at the alien horse before he grabbed something and slowly walked to the large animal’s side. Carefully placing the spare blanket over its back he ran a hand down the flank._

 _“Here you go. The cut looks better already. Does it bother you?”_

 _< Not that much anymore. Thank you>_

 _A soft snort, accompanied by a hot breath and a nuzzling snout at his neck made him jump._

 _“Colonel! Don’t do that!”_

 _There was an amused chuckle over the strange mind-link. <Sorry. Seemed the right thing to do. Instincts, I guess>_

 _“Yeah, well," Rodney sputtered, "keep your instincts on a short leash while you’re around me!"_

 _He returned to his own stack of blankets. Feeling his eyes drift shut he heard a faint, high pitched buzz._

 _“Put that tail of yours to good use and keep the mosquitoes away, will you?”_

 

 

Over the weeks they had discovered that the animal instinct of the equine could overpower the human mind, but the human was stronger and could control that instinct. Sheppard had worked hard on that and Rodney had worked even harder on not failing his own role in this scenario. He had to be the strong one. No freaking, no curling up and whimpering in fear, no losing it over tiny things like sleeping under the stars or shaving almost blind, nicking himself more often than not, bathing in cold water, washing his clothes and running around semi-naked. All of his uncomfortable moments had paled in the light of what Sheppard was feeling.

Rodney knew what he felt. The mind link made sure of that.

It had survived -- and it ached.

* * *

John Sheppard knew he might never tell anyone what had happened to him. It was too strange, too alien, too personal, but he also realized that what had occurred, what was still between him and Rodney, was of importance. It had been an impact on both of them, and Rodney was actually taking it in a stride and John would have figured him to totally lose it about this. On the other hand, Sheppard himself was severely disturbed by the events and he was losing ground on the simple basis that he couldn't sleep and felt increasingly lonely.

Not that he had no company, but he missed one particular person, and that person was who he was trying to avoid.

He was so fucked up.

Clenching his fingers in his hair, he felt a sting of welcome pain at the roots of his mistreated hair.

Maybe he shouldn't have regained his memory. Maybe he should have stayed a horse. Maybe he should have just stayed lost…

But he hadn't.

And he had found something other than himself again. He now had a connection to Rodney. Not that they did a lot of communicating. As it was, they were more or less avoiding each other in person. John didn't know much about mind shields, but what little they had worked out on M7B-377 was really coming in handy here.

The planet was behind them. He no longer was a huge horse. He didn't need Rodney in his head.

But Rodney had been his sanity. He had been there when the memories had come back, when he had realized what he had turned into. Rodney had been the stronger of them and it had been a new side he had discovered at his friend. McKay was probably just as shocked, but Sheppard had known the man could be brave. Rodney had shown that bravery again and again, going up against super-Wraith, against whole Hive ships, against lunatics with guns.

John himself had nearly broken apart over discovering he was trapped in an alien horse's body. He had clung to the mind link like a drowning man. The bond hadn't been telepathic. Neither could read the other's thoughts, but it had allowed the transmission of something like emotions or words that were directed at the other party.

Now he refused to even acknowledge it.

It hurt. He missed Rodney. He missed the presence with him. He missed… everything.

Two nights without much sleep. Two days back in Atlantis. Two days where normalcy should have settled in.

It hadn't.

John Sheppard was far from back to normal. He felt completely out of whack.

His men were giving him enough space as it was. Major Lorne had only once inquired about him, then had retreated to a safe distance. Sheppard had heard talk when the Marines had believed no one was listening.

"Three months with McKay? I'd be more than a little prickly myself," one of the night guards had remarked to another. "The man never shuts up."

"Yeah, well, if he's the only living being around," the other had added thoughtfully, "I guess being alone would hurt worse. And he's kinda… well, not nice, but bearable."

There was a laugh. "I wouldn't want to be on the same team with him. It's not that I dislike the scientists, but they're a danger in a hostile situation."

"We're here because of them," the first Marine reminded his fellow soldier. "Protecting them is our job."

Right you are, Sheppard thought angrily. This wasn't a military operation. This was an expedition and they were along to provide security detail, nothing more, nothing less.

"Sheppard must be glad to be home," Number Two could be heard again. "From the looks of things, they were probably at each other's throat within hours."

That got drew a chuckle. "Not everyone's dream to be trapped with a geek. Give me a fellow Marine any day."

John watched them walk on, feeling a stab in his stomach. Memories assaulted him again, of the first few days of his consciousness returning to the alien body.

 

 

 _Four days passed since Sheppard had suddenly found himself in an alien horse's body. It had happened from one moment to the next. Suddenly he had been there, rising like out of deep waters, and there had been Rodney._

 _John had since gone from shock into bouts of depression over the, in his eyes, hopeless situation, and had then reached anger. Rodney was having an increasingly more difficult time with his unwilling partner and the arguments were repeating themselves, mostly in the morning when they 'saddled up', and in the evening, when McKay attempted to make the other comfortable._

 _John was a stubborn and independent man, someone who pushed offered help away because of the knot of barely restrained fury in his mind._

 _The arguments increased and there was a moment when he physically pushed Rodney away, whinnying shrilly. There was a surge or irrational anger, followed by an echo of sudden fear and pain._

 _Sheppard looked down at the man. Rodney lay sprawled on the mossy ground, eyes wide, breathing hard, but there was a kind of control to him that Sheppard had seen before. It was the control of a man who was scared to death, who expected to die, but who would fight it teeth and claw._

 _< Oh god…> he murmured. <Rodney… I… I'm sorry…>_

 _He pranced, dancing away, confusion and fear warring for domination._

 _He had attacked his only friend. He had nearly kicked Rodney!_

 _McKay stumbled to his feet and away from the huge equine. There was blood on one cheek and he looked bruised._

 _< Rodney?>_

 _"I'm fine," was the level answer and McKay dusted himself off, wiping blood from the graze on his cheek._

 _John took another careful step closer and Rodney stepped back, eyes narrowing. There were no loud complaints, no bitching, and it was eerie._

 _< Rodney, please! I'm sorry. I'd never hurt you!>_

 _Blue eyes met his imploring gaze. Rodney's face was closed off, but there was betrayal there and John understood it. He would feel the same._

 _< Rodney…>_

 _There was silence for the rest of the day. John retreated to the edge of the small camp they had made. He watched McKay move about, saw him wince once or twice, but he didn't undress. Rodney made a fire, ate a few power bars, and checked the backpacks. It was a methodic, professional behavior. Part of John was proud. Compared to the Rodney McKay of the first missions, this Rodney was more like a soldier than many others he knew. He had undergone a kind of development John wouldn't have thought possible. He trusted the scientist on missions, knew he could handle the danger, even if he whined and bitched, and he was reliable. Scared out of his socks, but reliable._

 _Sheppard sighed softly, tail flicking in misery. Rodney didn't so much as glance at him and when he finally turned in to sleep, it was late._

 _John dozed off himself, the horse still alert to any kind of possible predators approaching._

 

*

 

 _It had taken a day to repair the damage done. John had never felt so bad, and most of it had probably been the animal that was a large part of him. The equine was mourning the loss of communication between them, suffered from the physical distance. Rodney was giving him a cold shoulder, talked barely more than was necessary, and he had pointedly walked ahead at a brisk pace, rarely stopping._

 _In a way it was amazing to watch Dr. Rodney McKay, a man who could whine about strenuous walks and unnecessary cross-country hikes on alien planets, do what he always had shied away from. In the few days they had been here now, hoping to reach the Stargate, hoping for rescue, Rodney had shown a lot of strength. John was truly and utterly amazed._

 _Right now, that amazement was buried underneath the need to talk again. His attempts had been ignored, though he knew he was being heard. For someone who liked to talk ceaselessly, always animated, with his hands gesticulating, Rodney was eerily silent._

 _When they stopped for the night, John felt something inside of him curl with need. He couldn't stand it any more. He approached his friend and whether it was the horse or himself, he gently pushed his nose against the other man's back._

 _< Rodney?> he tried softly. <Please. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I never meant it>_

 _The velvety snout brushed over warm human skin, nuzzled the neck, and he felt the physicist shiver. After what seemed to be ages, a hand reached up, touched the nose. Sheppard felt a flash of fear at a possible rejection, but then the strong fingers just brushed over his soft fur. Rodney turned and looked into his eyes, unconsciously stroking over his cheeks and nose._

 _Contact was established and Sheppard closed his eyes in what could almost be bliss. Something shivered over the connection and he suddenly felt Rodney's presence again. John took a last step forward and pressed his forehead against one shoulder, careful not to harm McKay with the dangerous horns._

 _And for just a moment, Rodney wrapped his arms around the dark brown head, hugging him. The mind link flared to life and John neighed softly, expressing his thanks._

 _< Apology accepted>_

 _It took Sheppard a while to understand that what had been said hadn't been spoken. Rodney had used the mind link, for the first time, probably without realizing it, and John didn't bring it up._

 _He simply enjoyed the contact._

 

 

Listening to the words of the soldiers, Sheppard felt this strange longing, this need that had been there when he had still been a horse. Trapped with Rodney hadn’t been a nightmare. It wasn't like it had been a walk in the park, an adventurous vacation, but it hadn't been too bad. Rodney had been his life line. Without him, Sheppard would have gone insane.

Now they were back home and it felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He was off balance, he craved a companionship that he didn't allow himself to experience, and every night was colder and lonelier than the one before. He wanted to reach out toward the other man, but he refused to give in to the need.

He was stronger than that. He could deal with it.

 

* * *

Rodney had busied himself with the data on his scanner for the past two days. He had found a secluded lab, had locked the door, and he had snarled at whoever wanted to start a conversation with him. Beckett had taken him off regular duty, but he hadn't expressly forbidden him to enter a lab or browse through data.

Pages upon pages of data scrolled by. Readings taken from John throughout their forced stay, data from M7B-377, his own data, and later, when they had made it to the Gate, comparison data from the ruins. He had the burst of energy from the initial earthquake, something he doubted had been natural. He also had the readings from later, without the earthquake, and it was fascinating.

Rodney spent most of the day pouring over the data. He barely noticed the tray of food appearing at his side, but he did notice the rather stern voice of Carson when the chief medic gave him a talking to in person about what 'off duty' really meant.

So McKay took his laptop and all the data and walked into his room. He locked himself in and continued.

Work took his mind off the absence of John Sheppard through their mind link. Sleep, when it came, was little and accompanied by tossing and turning. He still dreamed of the dark brown horse, felt his helplessness, his worry, his fear. He remembered calming the huge equine oh-so-many times. And he remembered the warmth John's presence in his mind had been.

He missed it.

Especially at night.

Just as he thought sleep was about to finally claim him, Rodney jerked awake with the feeling of something – amiss.

<Rodney?>

The sound of John Sheppard’s voice in his mind was almost plaintive. Memories flashed by, the brown eyes gazing at him with terror of what had happened.

<What?> he snapped harshly and winced.

As much as he welcomed the private way of communication, he was also in a rather bad mood because of the lack thereof in the last few days. Didn't Sheppard feel how blocking him hurt?

<I… uh, I can’t sleep> Sheppard murmured, sounding embarrassed.

Neither could he; he hadn't slept properly since they had returned. He refused to confess to it, though. And he refused to run to Carson for medical help. That would mean tests and exams and questions. Rodney had promised Sheppard not to tell and he wouldn't. He could be called a lot, but he wasn't someone to break a promise given.

<So?> McKay asked coolly.

<Can I… you know, only for tonight? Please?>

Maybe it was the ‘please that was his undoing, Rodney had no idea, but he silently sent his agreement. A few minutes later the door to his room slid open and a dark figure slipped in -- into his bed. The slender body fit perfectly, without much arrangement, and within that moment Rodney knew what he had been missing.

 

* * *

 

Rodney woke, feeling better than in the last few days, despite the bad dream. He wasn't really surprised to notice that he was alone again. No John Sheppard in his bed, not even in his room, and the mind link was quiet, just like before. He sighed softly and rolled out of bed, wincing at his cramped muscles in his back. Sharing a bed meant for one with another person was just as bad for him as sleeping on the forest ground.

He groaned with another wave of discomfort. A shower helped, as did his usual two cups of strong coffee, and Rodney simply headed for the lab. After three days home, Radek had almost given up on shooing him out of the labs. The Czech just rolled his eyes, shoved whatever Rodney demanded at him, then McKay disappeared once more. No one bothered him with day-to-day work. Zelenka was filling in for him in that regard. Rodney only wanted to evaluate what little he had on the strange device on M7B-377 – without having to go back.

He shuddered at the thought of ever stepping back on that planet. Not even the Wraith or the threat of the Genii could get him to go back.

So Rodney went back to his own work, ignoring the discomfort of being alone, ignoring the teasing memory of how nice the night together had been.

He wasn't a sociable person. He didn't need people cuddling up to him. He didn't need John Sheppard.

 

* * *

 

He still dreamed of M7B-377 and he knew Rodney did so as well. Sheppard didn't know if they shared dreams. He didn't care.

No, wrong, he did. He cared about Rodney. He cared for the other man who had saved him, but he couldn't just fall back into the routine they had developed on the planet.

 

 _The landscape everywhere was made out of rock. The canyon was deep and the walls were rugged, cut into the ground by the small river running along the bottom of the natural formation. Trees clung to small ledges, bushes grew out of cracks and an abundance of wildlife scurried around the maze before him. The sun was high and gave a perfect light to look into the canyon, the beams reflecting off the river, bouncing off natural arches, fins and spires, all rising up before him. Most of the stone had a gray or red color, sometimes even cream or whitish gray. It was a breathtaking spectacle of light, scenery and colors._

 _His nostrils blew wide. He took in the scent of nature around him, ears pricked, eyes aglow with life and sparkling with mischief._

 _< I want to run, Rodney!>_

 _"What? No, wait! I'm still on your back!"_

 _He laughed as his friend slid off and the dark brown horse started to run. It felt so good to stretch his legs. It was wildness, freedom, losing oneself in the motion._

 _John whinnied in pure love of life, and he could feel Rodney's echo inside him. For the first time in a month, both men experienced something akin to pure love of this life, of this planet._   
__

 

John shivered with the memories, with the emotions he still felt at the thought of running. It was as if he was now caged in, trapped, no longer a free spirit.

<John?>

He swallowed hard and refused to answer the worried question. He sensed Rodney close by, waiting, then the other man turned and retreated. Sheppard wanted this so badly, but still he fought it and it hurt more and more every time.

 

* * *

 

Sheppard's sprained ankle had healed faster than even Carson had predicted and the doctor was rather pleased with the progress. John had taken his 'all clear', three days after coming back, with mixed feelings. He was reminded of how fast his injuries as a … horse, face it, John, you were a big horse!... had healed. The deep cut to his shoulder had taken a week to scar and another to be gone. Rodney had theorized about it at the time, but he was no medical doctor and Sheppard had no inclination to talk to Carson.

It was his… their… secret.

Thankfully the complete physical had turned up no changes or abnormalities. Apparently shape-changing into four-legged creatures didn't leave you permanently different. At least medically. The rest was… debatable.

Carson had prescribed him a mild sleeping pill since John complained about his inability to sleep at night, and both he and Rodney were still on leave. Two weeks, Carson had told them.

The sleeplessness and the continued presence of Rodney in his mind were putting more pressure on him than the three months they had been lost. The need to spend time with Rodney, especially at night, was eating away at him. He was finding himself around his team mate more often than before. They had shared lunch in the past, but this was by now developing into a need for John.

And the nights…

He found it more and more difficult to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, not to use the mind link to call for the other man, to see how he was doing. The loneliness was almost painful and the ease with which Rodney accepted him at his side, in his bed, sleeping together like they had done in the wilderness, was terrifying. The physicist should be running scared, should be snarking and snapping and yelling, but he was more accepting than John had ever thought.

It was after their first week back, a week spent cleaning up his desk and reading every single report coming in from the other teams, as well as catching up on those missions he had missed, that John found himself working out his frustration in the gym. His ankle was fine and carried his weight, even as he went through the moves.

The punching bag took quite a beating and when John stepped back from the hapless piece of gym material, he became aware of his watcher. Ronon was leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, silent eyes on him.

"What?" Sheppard asked, a challenge in his voice.

"If you want to beat something up, choose someone who fights back."

"You volunteering?"

Ronon shrugged and pushed away from the wall. John grinned and flexed his fingers.

 

* * *

 

Ronon Dex was a warrior. He knew how to fight, he had survived being a Runner, he had survived the Wraith, he had survived more than anyone could think of. He wasn't all brawn. He had a sharp mind and because of it he had survived so much, never giving up, never backing down.

When he had chosen to remain on Atlantis, to become part of John Sheppard's team, it hadn't just been because these people were a chance for him to take revenge on the Wraith. He respected Sheppard. The man wasn't his physical match, but he was a commanding personality. He inspired his men, he had their respect and their loyalty, even though he wasn't one of them as he had once explained to him. In the military of the world he came from, Earth, there was a difference between Airforce and Marines. Sheppard was Airforce, had taken the place of the first military commander, and still he had the respect of his people.

Ronon had watched the man in the past year he had been with these men and women, and he understood where it came from.

So as he trained with Sheppard, he noticed the anger and grief and pain in the slighter man. He noticed the fury in each move, the need to channel something into physical blows, into drowning it through their fights. Ronon didn't step down, didn't take it easy, he treated Sheppard like everyone he respected and was loyal to.

No one really knew what had happened in the three months McKay and Sheppard had fought to survive on M7B-377. There had been a debriefing, an official report, but Ronon knew there was more. There was a closeness to the two men, something that spoke loudly to him that a kind of bonding had taken place. Still, the aggression was strange.

Blocking another strike from Sheppard, he easily twisted the man's arm around, heard the grunt of discomfort, and slammed the Colonel back onto the training mat.

"Enough?" Ronon asked, smirking.

Sheppard glared at him, struggling to get up, and Ronon let him.

A few moves later, after a lucky blow from his commanding officer, Sheppard was back on the ground again though, breathing hard.

"If you focus your anger instead of just fighting it, you might stand a chance."

Sheppard growled. "I'm not angry!"

"You are."

Ronon got up and held out a hand, pulling the other man to his feet. The Colonel took his fighting stance once more and Dex obliged him by entering a third round that ended just like the first two.

 

 

The gym encounters continued for almost four days and each time Sheppard ended painfully on the mat, Ronon inwardly shaking his head, but if his commanding officer needed to get this out of his system, he wouldn't turn down a good work out. Sheppard wasn't a wimp and he had some interesting moves that kept Dex on his toes, but he didn't focus. Teyla agreed with him and both just watched as their friend started to decline.

"It is Dr. McKay," Teyla stated throughout a shared lunch. "I noticed their growing distance. It worries me."

"Something happened on that planet," Ronon grunted. "They'll work through it."

"I hope so."

Ronon knew they would, but it would need time. Emotions weren't his thing and there were emotions involved, most of them anger, and there were people here who dealt with them. He would be Sheppard's punching bag as long as the Colonel wanted to get beat up. For everything else there were others.

 

* * *

 

He had made headway concerning the strange occurrence on M7B-377. Rodney had separated data strains, had compared them to devices he had studied extensively in this part of the galaxy and his own, and he had come to the conclusion that the energy burst that had registered on the scanner, and which had most likely caused the earthquake, was of Ancient origin. The ruins had been a lab of some kind and something inside had reacted to their presence, had come to life, and it had changed John Sheppard into a horse.

So much for what he could glean from the meager readings of before and after. Rodney still didn't know how exactly this could have happened. Shape-shifters existed, sure, but they couldn't change into anything much larger than their original body mass, or smaller for that matter. The horse had weighed ten times the weight of the Colonel, and that alone was impossible to explain.

And the final question was: why? Why come up with such a device? What had triggered it? Why only Sheppard?

Well, the last could have an easy answer: the ATA gene. Sheppard was the one who had come by it naturally. Rodney had undergone the artificial gene treatment, so that might be the reason. Usually it was a good reason to start with on a bad day, and Rodney was having a row of bad days.

He wished he could talk to Carson. The medic might have an idea about he whole shape-shifting thing. When John had finally managed to become human, standing there all pale and shocked and thin and very much naked, Rodney hadn't had the brain god had given him to take readings. He had been too shocked to react, then he had just caught the collapsing man and wrapped him in blankets until the shivers died down.

Rodney rubbed his tired eyes and pushed that thought aside, as nice and entertaining as it was. Ogling at traumatized team mates wasn't him. No one could accuse him of being completely insensitive. But with the reminder of a warm body next to him last night, it was hard to forget. Despite their almost frigid behavior toward each other, the distance they kept, the nights were spent together.

He should put a stop to it, Rodney knew. He should refuse, but he was weak. He was needy, and so was Sheppard. The nights were cold and lonely and both wanted this company. No sex, no touches other than sliding together, and in the morning Sheppard would always be gone.

Rodney pinched the root of his nose, sighing.

"Pathetic," he muttered.

 

* * *

 

"Good god, it's caveman time again," Rodney growled to himself as he rubbed his aching neck.

There was also the unmistakable echo of bruises forming on his body, though it wasn't his own body. In the past few days he had gone from annoyance to exasperation to pissy to grumpy to downright 'I'll kill the bastard'. Not only did Sheppard beat himself to pulp, no, he had to drag Rodney into it as well.

He had tried to ignore it. It hadn't worked.

He had tried to talk to the man. He had been ignored.

He had tried to lose himself in physics – and had miscalculated a simple equation three times in a row.

Rodney McKay was one very unhappy camper and even a wounded grizzly bear wasn't a match to his mood.

Stalking through the hallways he didn't even bother knocking on Sheppard's door. He used the gene to think it open and it did so obediently. If Rodney had lost more than a thought about his latest accomplishments when it came to working Ancient technology, he might have had something new to keep him busy. As it was, a certain Colonel was driving him insane.

Sheppard had apparently just showered and was in the process of dressing himself. He was more or less decent, but there was nothing Rodney hadn't seen before. Especially after M7B-377.

"What the hell…?" Sheppard exclaimed.

Rodney ran a disapproving look over the bruise mottled chest. Sheppard gave him a dark look and pulled the black shirt over the bruises, hiding them again.

"What do you want, Rodney?" he asked.

"Are you done getting your head bashed in?" McKay wanted to know, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"It's called a work-out, Rodney."

"Working out is lifting weights or maybe even having Teyla hit you with her sticks, but Ronon? Colonel, you look like a limping ad for road kill!"

"Shut up," John growled, trying not to limp as he went over to put on his boots.

"Shut up about what? You getting yourself killed? Or me feeling it?!"

Rodney's voice had risen and there was a sharp quality to each and every word. When Sheppard stared at him, McKay's mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be, Colonel! I can feel you here!" He tapped his forehead. <I can sense you, Sheppard! I can hear your thoughts and feel your emotions!>

"No!" John cried in denial.

"Yes!" Rodney snapped. "Yes, I can! Like on M7B-377! Like those goddamned three months of roughing it and keeping you sane!"

Sheppard stared at him, breathing hard, trying to glare the man into denying what he had just said.

<If you have to get yourself killed, do it!> Rodney drove his point home through the connection. <But leave me out of it!>

"Stop doing this!"

<Why? Because you don't want it? Fat chance, Colonel! I don't want to feel your bruises either!>

Hands balled into fists and Rodney prepared himself to get decked. He tried not to flinch when Sheppard stalked toward him, but he did and he moved a tiny step back, cursing himself a wimp.

Nothing happened.

Sheppard pushed past McKay and stormed down the corridor.

No one stopped him.

No one dared to.

Rodney closed his eyes and sighed. It sounded almost like a whimper. He couldn't go on like this. It was killing them both. After a long moment he steeled himself and set out to find his missing Colonel.

It wouldn't be too hard to find the man on Atlantis. The city itself easily located those with the gene, and it seemed to have a certain fondness of Sheppard. Rodney wasn't above using every sensor at his disposal, and he got lucky quite soon.

 

 

It was one of the many abandoned areas of Atlantis, those of no use to the expedition for now, and those who couldn't be used as living quarters. The storm had left quite some damage in this area and Elizabeth had decided to lock everything down, keep flooding from happening, and no one was to wander around without a guard.

Not that John Sheppard had ever listened to such warnings, Rodney mused darkly as he stalked through the unlit corridor. There was enough light coming in through the windows high above, but it was filtered down to twilight and he hated tripping over things everywhere.

When he had finally made it to Sheppard's little hidey-hole, his mood had dropped another two notches toward ghastly. The room was big and had once probably been as nice and airy as the upper floor rooms. Now it was gray, stank of rotting algae and whatnot, and there was debris everywhere. A portion of the wall was missing and it was where Sheppard stood, staring out over the ocean.

"I hope you're not contemplating suicide, Colonel," Rodney remarked.

Sheppard glanced briefly at him. "Leave me alone, Rodney. You're worse than the plague."

"Which one?"

"You pick. You'll always be worse."

Rodney snorted, coming closer. "And if you could get your head out of your ass and see the brighter places, you wouldn't go around destroying yourself."

"I'm not suicidal."

"I didn't say suicidal, Sheppard. Would you just listen to me for one goddamn minute? We can't change what happened, okay? We have to live with it!"

Sheppard exhaled with a sharp hiss.

"And you lived with me just fine on that hell hole of a planet. What's different now?"

"We're back home!" Sheppard exploded. "Everything has changed."

"No, it hasn't!"

"I don't need you!" he yelled, eyes flashing dangerously. "I can take care of myself!"

"So that's why you keep coming to my room at night!" Rodney snapped back, aware he was by no on thin ice, but look if he cared.

"I'm not…"

"Oh right! The big Colonel Sheppard isn't in need of company! You're so independent, so brave, so military! You weren't any of that on M7B-377!"

"It's the past!"

<And what's this?>

"Stop it!"

<I won't! You can't change what happened, Sheppard. You can't erase this… mind link, this connection.>

"I can if you would stop using it!" Sheppard hissed.

<Why should I?>

Brown eyes flared with fury. "Stop it, Rodney," he whispered harshly.

<Make me!>

 

 

John moved without thinking and only when he saw the blue eyes widen in fear, when he heard the terrified intake of breath, did he realize what he had done. His hand dropped from where he had grabbed Rodney, pushed him against the wall, had pressed his forearm against the vulnerable throat…

"Oh god…"

He started to tremble. Fear and pain and exhaustion were all crashing down on him and it didn't help that he was looking into a pair of blue eyes that had watched over him for three long months. Rodney had been his life line. Rodney had kept him away from the edge of insanity. Rodney had brought him back.

He needed him.

No!

Sheppard crashed hard into the wall behind him, whispering, "I don't need you," again and again and again.

He felt so completely out of control. His body wasn't his any more. It had been changed. His mind was now connected to McKay and he craved that contact. His very soul screamed for the other man, and all John Sheppard could do was curl his hands into fists, nails digging painfully against the soft palms.

"You do," Rodney told him, voice sad and slightly rough as he rubbed his throat gingerly. "I wish this was different. But you do."

John was shaking now, hands clenched into fists to keep himself from breaking completely, and he shook his head in denial.

"I can't…." he managed. "I can't need you. I'm… I'm myself. I'm not this… thing. This isn't happening to me!"

"You weren't a thing. You were a huge horse with horns," the soft voice said. "And it happened."

Why was Rodney so compassionate? Why wasn't he ranting and snarking and just hitting him for his attack? Why was he, John Sheppard, having a nervous breakdown on his doorstep, and McKay was so… collected? Why didn't he go running to Elizabeth, demanding that John be sent back or court-martialed or… or…

<Because I can feel your fear, John>

"I'm not afraid!" he cried.

<You are! Of this! What it means!>

"It means nothing! Stay out of my head!" he yelled.

And then he ran.

Away from his hiding place, to find something even further away, something new, something where no one could find him.

 

 

Rodney wasn't aware he was trembling until he ran a severely shaking hand through his hair. He fell against the wall and sank down to sit onto the floor, the reaction to the attack and the terror he had felt from Sheppard finally taking root.

In a way he understood the Colonel's reaction. He had been a backseat rider to them for the past week and it had culminated in this, but it wasn't over. Sheppard slept badly, he was pushing away what had been a great need for three months, and while Rodney had absolutely no idea about horses he understood the loneliness in Sheppard's mind.

John had changed, not just physically, on that planet. As had Rodney. Their connection, as frightening as it had been, had become Sheppard's life line with which he had survived this horrifying ordeal. That he longed for normalcy was, well, normal. Rodney wanted to go back to his old life and just forget as well, but after two days he had given up on that.

There was no going back.

As long as the mind link existed, they had to live with it. And they had to keep this secret.

With only him knowing about the physical transformation Colonel Sheppard had gone through, Rodney was also the only one John could talk to, but he refused to do so.

Maybe it was time to push the last button. Rodney closed his eyes, for a moment feeling the fear come back when Sheppard had almost choked him. He was good at pushing buttons, but usually there was someone to protect him from the fall out. Right now the one who always kept him safe was the one whose last button he needed to push.

Oh fun.

 

* * *

 

There was no overlooking the facts any longer. Elizabeth had noticed how strained the relationship between McKay and Sheppard had become, and she had, like many, attributed it to the solitary time the men had spent on the backwater planet. There had been no human contact, just the two of them, and she knew that any friendship, no matter who the parties concerned were, would be sorely tested by this. With Rodney and John, two very different personalities had been trapped there, depending on the other. She refused to believe that their friendship had broken. No, it was something different, something more personal, and they were both working through it in their own way.

Sessions with their resident psychologist hadn't shed any light. Kate Heightmeyer refused to talk about personal revelations, but she had told Elizabeth that she believed that something groundbreaking had happened, something they weren't talking to her about. For now she had to tolerate it. If, at the end of the two weeks Beckett had insisted both men needed, no change had occurred, she had to start attacking this problem.

 

 

Things got a little better. At least neither man looked like he hadn't slept at all in that week. Rodney was burying himself in work, even though Carson argued he needed rest, and in the second week he even came to Elizabeth with his theories about M7B-377 and the ruined lab they had found there.

"Should we send a research team?" Elizabeth asked and for a moment she thought she saw fear in Rodney's eyes.

"We can't access the Gate," he replied snarkily.

"I could send the Daedalus. We have the planet's location."

Rodney waved her off. "I doubt we can get a lot from whatever the Ancients did there."

"They chose an abandoned or even never inhabited planet to erect a Stargate and a lab," Elizabeth argued. "It might be of interest."

Another negative wave. "It's old, most of what we found was destroyed, and whatever dislocated me and Sheppard, it wasn't there when we returned. The whole thing had collapsed in on itself."

She nodded thoughtfully. Weir wasn't ready to send their only ship to a remote planet to drop off a bunch of researchers, especially since her head scientist argued against it, but something in Rodney's behavior tipped her off to the fear. Whatever had happened, whatever they both didn't tell anyone, it was connected to that planet.

"Are you sure?"

McKay nodded. "Yes. I have what I need. It was an outpost, Elizabeth. Maybe they wanted to get a whole lab there, but the Wraith interrupted their ideas of research on a nice and quiet backwater world. I have more here in Atlantis that looks promising than what I saw there."

"Okay. Thank you for the report."

Rodney just shrugged, then left. Elizabeth watched him disappear down a corridor, frowning mildly.

 

* * *

 

After the attack, things had ground to a shaky halt. Rodney had tried to ignore the fact that he suddenly felt slightly afraid of the Colonel, and he had tried to ignore the disturbing dreams of the next night. He had been the victim of sharp hooves, of long, razor-like horns, and the fury of a wild animal. Rodney had woken at three in the morning and wandered about the silent corridors, shaking slightly.

He found himself in front of Sheppard's quarters and this time he knocked. Barely a minute passed before the door slid open and a rather rumpled but not very sleepy looking John Sheppard gazed at him.

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding emotionally wrung out.

"Talk." And he pushed inside.

Sheppard sighed. "I'm not in the mood for talking, Rodney."

"Too bad. Then just listen."

"Not in the mood for that one either."

"You're also not sleeping."

"Genius."

He smirked. "Yes, correct." Rodney looked around, shook his head at the mess Sheppard had created. The man was usually very neat, but that had changed. He turned to the Colonel. "Why are you fighting this?"

"What exactly?"

"All of it, Sheppard! All of it! You need the company and yet you deny yourself the closeness! Why?"

"You think no one will notice me coming to your room every night?" Sheppard asked harshly.

"I'd be shocked if they didn't! Your Marines would have to be blind not to see!"

"I don't want them to see!"

"You don't want them to know!" Rodney snapped. "You don't want them to know that you need human contact like the rest of us human beings!"

"I'm no longer human!" Sheppard cried out.

"Because some kind of Ancient device turned you into a big horse? You also turned into Bug Man and it didn't freak you like this! <Or is it this?> Rodney added, using the link.

John flinched back, breathing hard. "I said stop this!"

"Want to strangle me again, Colonel?"

The brown eyes were impossibly wide, but nothing could divert attention from the lines of exhaustion, from the rings under Sheppard's eyes, and Rodney's reaction to the bad state of his friend was more sympathy than he had ever had for another human being. The three months hadn't gone by without leaving traces with him either.

A violent tremor went through the slender form and Rodney took an involuntary step closer.

"Rodney, I… I can't go on like this," Sheppard moaned.

"Then accept what happened and what you need. It'll be so much better for all involved, which is you and me!"

The tremors increased and the Colonel started to sway.

<John, it happened. It wasn't a bad dream you can forget. Hell, I know I can't forget it! Not with you snuggling up to me every night and being there, in my mind!>

<No…>

Rodney caught the collapsing form and grunted as the full weight was suddenly on him. He stumbled and managed to haphazardly sit down on the bed. Sheppard was trembling and his hands were clenched into Rodney's shirt, not unlike the time he had finally managed to assume human form again on M7B-377. Back then Sheppard had clung to him just the same, wordless, soundless, just shaking.

This time there was a difference. This time it wasn't relief. It was fear and anxiety and the horror of the past all coming together. It was desperation and denial, and there were… tears. John was crying soundlessly, tears leaking from his closed eyes.

Rodney held him. Just held him.

In the end he managed to get them both onto the bed, John still clingy, still holding on like he was the only real thing he knew, and Rodney stroked over the dark, unruly hair. It was a gentle, petting motion, one he had used on the frightened horse as well. It was surreal and still familiar, and it lulled them both into a doze. Like on M7B-377, the caresses calmed Rodney as much as Sheppard. His freaking was on a very low level, somewhere deep inside, and maybe, later, he would do it more pronouncedly.

Right now losing it wasn't an option. One half of their connection was already down for the count and if he succumbed, they would be heading for the rubber cell rather quickly.

 

* * *

 

 _They were back at the Stargate – and with it back to the ruins. John pranced nervously and Rodney clutched the black mane, though he knew he wouldn't be able to keep Sheppard from running._

 _"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay."_

 _< No> was the almost panicky reply. <I can still feel it. I can feel… it's like…>_

 _And then he got a garbled mess that almost floored him. Rodney gave a cry of surprise and stumbled away from the equine as one massive shoulder shoved him hard. His mind was filled with distorted images, with strangeness, with… twisting and changing and… pain! He screwed his eyes shut and whimpered, almost going down on his knees._

 _< Rodney!> _

_The cry was accompanied by a shrill whinny that almost split his eardrums. McKay opened his eyes._

 _"Colonel, no!" he yelled._

 _But the equine was beyond reason. Like the scared animal John Sheppard was deep down inside his human mind, he twisted on his hind legs to start running. There was a low rumble and Rodney froze, his heart almost stopping._

 _"No," he moaned. "No, no, no!"_

 _The machine._

 _But this time there was no earthquake, no bright light, only the shrill cries of a terrified horse and the pounding of hooves as Sheppard took off. He didn't get far. One of his hooves slid into a hole in the ground, probably from the last quake, and he went down hard. There was an equine cry of pain as he was thrown onto his side, the hind leg twisting sharply, and he started to struggle._

 _< John! No!>_

 _A high-pitched, terrified whinny cut the air._

 _Rodney wasn't aware of actually using the mind link so strongly, nor did he realize that he had run toward the panicking alien horse until he almost got hit by a sharp hoof._

 _< STOP IT!> he yelled._

 _Sheppard struggled to his feet, coat flecked with sweat, nostrils wide, and he was favoring one hind leg. His eyes rolled and he was actually limping away from Rodney, wheezing._

 _< John, listen to me! You're not in danger! It's okay!>_

 _For the first time since they had been stranded hear, Rodney felt real panic. Sheppard was hurt, the animal side was dominant, and while the horse couldn't run, it was huge, it had sharp horns, sharp teeth and was probably out of its mind._

 _< John… calm down, push back the animal>_

 _A whinny, frightened and accompanied by more limping._

 _Rodney's panic threatened to overflow._

 _< Colonel Sheppard!>_

 _The dark head flew up, eyes wide, the nostrils exhaling gusts of warm air._

 _< You're Colonel John Sheppard! Not some stupid horse! Damnit, pull yourself together!>_

 _In hindsight, maybe he should have said something like this before. Maybe it was the trigger to what happened next. Rodney couldn't be sure. He just gave a yell of fright as the whole equine started to twist out of focus, as he heard the shrill screams of almost-pain. He gasped as he witnessed something he couldn't put into words. His mind was awash with the shared emotions of the man before him… the man and the horse… and then there was only John Sheppard, naked as the day he had been born, and wide, brown eyes glazed over as knees gave way._

 _"Colonel!"_

 _He caught the collapsing form, feeling the shivers, and he hectically searched through the backpack for the blankets._

 _"John? Can you hear me? Sheppard!"_

 _A moan answered him._

 _"Damnit! Why? Why does it always happen to me?" Rodney whined. "First a horse, now that!"_

 _Rodney had dragged and cursed and carried and threatened the other man closer to the ruined Ancient structure. John was weakly protesting the closeness of the very installation that had turned him into a four-legged alien being, but Rodney simply ignored him. He wrapped him into a blanket against the now colder wind._

 _Looking up into the sky he grimaced. The clouds had darkened and it looked like rain. There was barely any shelter here and what doubled as mediocre was actually rather disheartening for protection. Part of the building he had been exploring before this had happened was still more or less forming a small shelter and it was where he had dragged the other man. There was nowhere else to go in case it started to rain, and they had no tent in their backpacks._

Should make a requisition for that _, he mused._

 _John was shivering, eyes on the sky, looking shocky and too pale and way too thin, in Rodney's eyes. His foot looked bad. Sheppard was wincing every time he put weight on it and it had made their little trip even more difficult._

 _"Can you dress yourself?" he asked matter-of-factly as he rummaged through the second backpack and unearthed Sheppard's clothing._

 _It had taken him a very long time, accompanied by the gentle ribbing of the changed Colonel, to sew the rips back together again. It wasn't a whole lot of good, but it was some meager cover. They also had blankets, which would help, and the boots had mysteriously survived intact._

 _Teeth chattering, the Colonel nodded._

 _Rodney watched the failing attempts at coordinating hands and feet and whatever other body parts were involved. He finally rolled his eyes._

 _"Let me help!" he snapped and snatched the pants out of numb fingers._

 _It wasn't any better with two of them attempting to dress the trembling man, but he finally had the pants buttoned, his own t-shirt and the repaired long-sleeve shirt over Sheppard's head, and he forced him into his jacket as well._

 _"Gonna be bad…"John whispered._

 _"What?"_

 _"Thunder storm. Bad one."_

 _Sheppard winced and buried in the blankets Rodney had thrown over him. He was wearing only one boot. The other couldn't make it over the injury._

 _McKay looked up into the sky and sighed. It was almost dark out there, and from his sense of time it wasn't even late afternoon yet, and the clouds were churning. Wind whipped at his hair and he quickly crawled back to Sheppard, who had crawled into the farthest corner of their meager shelter._

 _A fire was out of the question, but he could at least try and make them comfortable before the storm hit them full force._

 _Thunder rolled in the distance and he saw Sheppard wince. The brown eyes were too dilated for Rodney's liking and he had no idea what the sudden change back into human shape had cost the other man._

 _First things first._

 _Make them comfortable, protect them as best as possible. In the past three months Rodney had learned a thing or two about roughing it, and John had been a great help with his military survival tips. So in short time Rodney had cleared out a nice area in the back, checked for possible leaks in the roof, and by the time the first raindrops hit the ground, they were more or less comfy. As best as possible._

 _Sheppard audibly bit back a whimper when the thunder was accompanied by lightning, burying deep into the blankets, and Rodney regarded him with worry._

 _"John?" he asked quietly._

 _< Can't.. it's… I can't stop…>_

 _Rodney froze in shock at the mind voice, then forced himself to ignore it._

 _The mind link still worked, part of him screamed. Good god, it still worked!_

 _No freaking, he told himself. No freaking, no screaming, no running, no asking dumb questions. Genius here. Just… handle it, McKay._

 _Reaching out, he mentally as well as physically touched the frightened human being, and Sheppard did something that would probably embarrass him if he ever remembered it. He clung to Rodney, hands fisting into his shirt, and when McKay settled himself more comfortably against the wall, he almost crawled onto his lap._

 _"Shhhh..." Rodney murmured, hands running over the shaking back, just like he had calmed the horse._

 _< Can't fight it… this fear…>_

 _"Don't. Maybe it's left-over instinct. Animals fear thunder and lightning."_

 _Outside, the wind started to howl and more rain splattered onto the ground. Rodney wrapped his arms around the newly-turned-human Colonel, soothing him, murmuring softly, trying to keep his own fear at bay. The very air was charged with electricity, the wind was ripping at the shelter, and the rain was like a staccato beat against the roof._

 _Cowering under the blankets, Rodney hoped that John wouldn't suddenly turn back. That would be rather… bad._

 _"It's okay," he repeated._

 _"Sorry," Sheppard managed, voice sounding rough. "Sorry."_

 _And he was embarrassed. Rodney smiled weakly._

 _"Nothing to apologize for. We wait this out, then we dial home."_

 _The rain lasted all night and one storm front chased another. They fell into an uneasy sleep and Rodney woke feeling cramped, but also rather warm. Sheppard was still very close to him, as close as humanly possible, and Rodney didn't have the heart to wake the man. He smiled at the wild tuft of hair sticking out from under the blankets._

 _Even the hair is back, he thought._

 _*_

 _When Sheppard woke he was more coherent than the night before. He blinked a little owlishly and slowly untangled himself from the blankets. Rodney didn't say anything until the other man looked at him, then he just raised an eyebrow._

 _"How do you feel?"_

 _< Human>_

 _Rodney's brows rose higher. "Colonel?"_

 _< Huh?>_

 _"Are you aware you're using the mind link?"_

 _Sheppard gave him a startled look, then cleared his throat. "Oh," he rasped._

 _"It's probably just instinct."_

 _Like so many things had been. Sheppard moved his foot and winced, the wince turning in a grimace within a second._

 _"Ow, damnit!"_

 _"You twisted your foot."_

 _"I noticed, Rodney!"_

 _"No need to get snippy."_

 _Brown eyes glared. "I'm not snippy."_

 _"Sure."_

 _Rodney got to his feet, feeling strangely out of the water now that his team leader was his human self again._

 _"I'll…" he gestured vaguely with one hand, "have a look at the Gate."_

 _Sheppard just nodded, one hand gingerly massaging his aching foot. Rodney knew it ached. He felt echoes of the pain through the link. Sheppard had a high threshold for pain and what Rodney felt was actually a very watered down version of the real thing._

 _"Help me up," the Colonel growled, shuffling into a better position to rise._

 _"You think it's wise to…"_

 _"Rodney!"_

 _Blue eyes flared with annoyance. "Three months as an alien horse haven't been good for your mood, Colonel!"_

 _"Help me the hell up! I want to leave this thrice-damned place as soon as possible!"_

 _A hand was demandingly stuck out and Rodney grabbed it, not really surprised at how easily he was able to pull the other man up. Sheppard had lost weight._

 _< You live off bark, grass and berries, then we'll talk!>_

 _< I did, Colonel> Rodney replied pointedly through the link. _

_Anger wormed its way into the gaze that met his. Sheppard was severely off balance. Rodney wouldn't be able to tell from looking just at the outside appearance, which reflected annoyance and pain, but the mind link was another matter._

 _"Get dialing," John muttered._

 _"Yes, Sir, Mr. Colonel, Sir!"_

 _Sheppard limped after him, wincing every time his foot so much as touched the ground with one toe. Rodney ignored him, though he was worried, and walked over to the DHD. It looked intact and so did the Stargate. A quick check of the dialing device confirmed that._

 _"Then why didn't they look for us," McKay murmured, feeling a brief pang of abandonment._

 _"They did. I'm sure they did."_

 _"Not very far!"_

 _"We weren't in the area, McKay."_

 _"That never stopped anyone from widening the search radius!" Rodney snapped. "We came here on foot in three months! Someone should have seen us before!"_

 _Sheppard looked uncomfortable, but he didn't comment. They had talked about this before, throughout their journey here, and all the answers had been disheartening._

 _"When we get home," John could be heard, "leave this out of the briefing."_

 _"You twisting your foot in a gopher hole? Why? It's so much fertile ground for high comedy," Rodney taunted._

 _"I meant the horse thing."_

 _He looked up, eyes narrowing. "What horse thing, Colonel? There were many horse things."_

 _"All of it."_

 _Rodney stopped halfway reaching out for the first glyph. "What?"_

 _"We won't mention this."_

 _"This is vitally important!"_

 _"What for?" Sheppard demanded, balancing most of his weight on his good foot._

 _"You shape-changed!" Rodney exclaimed. "This isn't just a minor thing like contracting alien measles!"_

 _"Rodney…"_

 _"Why?" McKay asked sharply. "Why would you lie?"_

 _"I won't lie! I just don't want anyone to know!"_

 _"You became Iratus Bug Man and you didn't care!"_

 _"That's different!"_

 _"How?"_

 _Sheppard face was a mask of anger. "It was different," he reiterated. "I was.. bitten, infected."_

 _"And here an Ancient machine made you do it. It's not different. Who knows what after-effects this has?!"_

 _"I'm human again, okay? It's over."_

 _< What about this?>_

 _Sheppard inhaled sharply. "Stop that, Rodney."_

 _< You might be human, but something stayed. Something lingered. With both of us!> Rodney insisted._

 _"It'll fade."_

 _"Of course, Dr. Sheppard, xeno-biologist extraordinaire."_

 _"Just dial the damn Gate!"_

 _"And then step through and lie through my teeth?"_

 _"Rodney!"_

 _McKay gritted his teeth, fuming silently and not so silently. Cursing under his breath, calling a rather stubborn Lieutenant Colonel all kinds of things the man in question heard, he punched the first glyph._

 

* * *

 

For the first time in ten days, John Sheppard didn’t wake abruptly, slid out of bed and hurried out of a room that wasn't his own. Well, this was his room, so there was no hurrying involved. For the first time in ten days he had slept deeply and had dreamed of nothing bad or terrifying. Sheppard let his senses adjust to the warmth next to him and part of him cherished the closeness of another being. It felt right to be with someone, to feel body heat, to hear gentle snores, and this strange part of him insisted that he needed this.

John snuggled into the arm that was holding him and made a noise of content. He no longer felt alone. He felt… home.

<You're aware just who you're snuggling with, right?>

John cracked an eye open and looked into a pair of amused blue eyes. He should be pushing away, he should be screaming and shouting, but he was too relaxed, feeling too good to do much.

"Very," he muttered, not making a move to get up.

<Good>

"Stop it, Rodney, please."

<Why?>

"I…" John sighed and reluctantly moved away from the company he had craved so much and denied himself to have. "It's just freaky."

"You weren't freaked on M7B-377."

"Back then it was the only way to talk to you!"

Sheppard sat up and swung his legs over the mattress. The sensual moment was broken. A hand was on his back, soothing, gentle, so familiar in the way it touched him.

"Rodney…"

"That bother you now?"

"Yeah."

No, it wasn't. It felt as good as when he had still been an alien horse. Rodney did that to him, calmed him, soothed him, and even if he was aware of McKay's own skittish emotions that he kept under tight lock, John enjoyed it. He liked this. He liked this too much for his own sanity.

"Cause the big bad military commander can't let anyone know he likes being touched by a geek?" came the acidic remark.

Sheppard winced. Yes. Yes, because this was bad. Not because it was Rodney touching him. Not because of anyone knowing about it. It was bad because he depended on this. He sought out his head scientist to calm his nerves. He had this instinctual need for the warmth Rodney represented, his safety.

And that was just plain wrong. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard didn't need back pats and caresses to feel safe and secure. He hadn't needed them in the past and he sure as hell didn't need them now. He wasn't close to breaking apart because of what had happened.

If anyone should tremble and gibber to himself it was Rodney. Why was McKay so much braver in this? Why was he so accepting?

"If you put it like that…" John heard himself say.

The hand was removed and he mourned it immediately.

"Don't worry, Colonel," McKay said coolly. "I'm not going to change that straight boy image of yours."

"Rodney…"

No! It wasn't about that! Never about that. It was something so complicated and emotionally twisted, Sheppard didn't understand it himself.

"Don't bother."

“Rodney, I know you’re attracted to me,” he blurted.

The blue eyes grew even colder. “So you read my file? News flash, Colonel. Everyone who has knows I like both sides. No shock there. Yes, I find you attractive. Had from the start, but so what? Don’t get me wrong here, I wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with you, not at all. But just because I would like to doesn’t necessarily mean I will.”

And with that he was out the door, looking rumpled and unshaven. Sheppard suddenly felt very alone and helpless. The animal inside him stirred nervously.

<Rodney?>

But the other didn’t respond.

He hung his head, feeling a faint headache creep up on him. He had blown it again. The next step in what he might be able to call a healing process, and he had again destroyed what little headway they had made.

 

* * *

 

 _Rodney looked at his makeshift bed from twigs and leaves and warm moss, covered by a thermo blanket with indignation. It was the third night on this godforsaken planet and he started to wonder deeply where the cavalry was._

 _“All this sleeping on the ground is so not good for my back,” he muttered._

 _< Take it this way – I have to sleep on all fours> Sheppard’s voice in his mind made him jump. _

_“Don’t do that,” he snapped._

 _< What?>_

 _“Listening in.”_

 _< I’m not listening in, Rodney. You’re broadcasting>_

 _McKay sighed loudly. "Just… don't," he muttered and tried to get comfortable on the ground._

 _There was the sound of hooves on soft ground coming closer, then warm air blew against his neck, making Rodney jump._

 _"Don't do this!" he yelled._

 _< Sorry>_

 _But he didn't sound sorry._

 _Rodney grunted something, then pointedly turned onto his side and closed his eyes._

 _The next morning came with a drizzle of rain and Rodney cursed and muttered throughout packing their things. John watched him curiously, then patiently waited until the backpacks were secured on his back. Rodney felt velvety lips nuzzle him as he tested the straps and he pushed the head aside._

 _"Can't you control yourself?" he asked acidly._

 _< Sorry. I… can't explain it> Sheppard answered sheepishly._

 _McKay snorted and winced when his knotted muscles complained about the abuse they had taken from sleeping on the ground._

 

 

Rodney sat in front of his laptop, unable to concentrate on his work. Memories of M7B-377 came and went. He recalled the pain, the hardship, but also the sudden closeness between him and John Sheppard. It had become more than mere friendship. It had become… the mind link, the connection between two very different people.

He should be freaked out by the almost telepathic connection, but part of him, and it wasn't the scientist, actually liked the idea. For whatever reason. He had liked the strange new way of communication, and he had learned to read Colonel Sheppard's moods through this connection and by watching the large horse his friend had become.

He had discovered a whole new side to Sheppard, one that wasn't the animal, one that had probably always been there, and one that Rodney was attracted to even more than he had been before.

He raked his hands through his hair. Damn. He didn't need this on top of all the other problems, like the Wraith, the Genii or all the other homicidal maniacs in the Pegasus galaxy. He didn't need to fall even more for the handsome Airforce Colonel. It was bad enough already and three months with the man had only added to the attraction.

"Why me?" he groaned.

He felt like banging his head on his precious computer.

 

 _< Rodney…>_

 _It sounded helpless, pleading._

 _“I’m here, Colonel.”_

 

Rodney pressed his fist against his closed eyes, trying to push the memories away, but they refused to go.

He missed the closeness they had had. He missed… John. Not Colonel Sheppard, but John. The man whose anchor he had been. The man he had suddenly gotten to know anew.

It didn't help that Sheppard had told him in oh-so-many words that he wouldn't mind getting to know each other even more closely. Rodney was so tempted to use the mind link, to talk to the other man, to touch the presence he had come to know.

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He's bi, you like his ass, and suddenly you lust after the whole man. Stupid."

But he liked the lusting and he liked the ass, and he liked the personality that came with the ass. Rodney had never had any illusions about his success when it came to Sheppard. Sure, he might enjoy a one-night stand, but he didn't want that. He wanted him for more than that or not at all. He wasn't shy, he wasn't timid, he knew what he wanted and he usually got it – aside from Samantha Carter. She had been the only woman who had ever managed to completely shoot him down, throw him off balance and have him behave like a total idiot.

"I'm dead," he moaned. "I'm so dead."

Because John Sheppard was mind-linked to him.

So dead…

 

* * *

 

The sheets were cool against his heated skin and a salty breeze made the curtains move, bringing with it the always present sound of waves crashing. John tossed around for the umpteenth time, wishing sleep would claim him. But sleep refused. He was feeling confused about his earlier come-on to Rodney, how bluntly he had approached the physicist. It hadn’t been what he had had in mind, not at all. Yes, he had come to get to know the other man a lot better within the three months they had been stranded on that planet, and he had liked what he had seen.

This mind-link or whatever it was they had developed had helped immensely. He had seen bits and pieces and sides of Rodney McKay he doubted anyone else knew about, and he had gotten a deeper insight in their local genius. Yes, he wanted Rodney McKay, and he wanted all of him. He would have to do a lot of convincing and maybe even courting – but for him to be able to do that Rodney would have to talk to him again first.

And his room felt lonely.

<Rodney?>

No answer.

<Rodney, please>

God, he hadn’t pleaded that much in his entire life so far.

<What do you want?> came the cool reply.

It hurt. He wanted the warmth again, the caring. Yes, Rodney McKay could care, and he had cared about him. He had protected him, had been his only companion.

<Can I come over?> John asked carefully.

<Whatever for?>

<I… need you>

The moment he thought it, he knew it was true. He did need Rodney, as much as the horse had needed him, as much as he had needed him to stay sane. There was a very long moment of silence and John was about to curl up and immerse himself in misery when he felt the slight tug at his mind, indicating that Rodney was there.

He was out of his room in record time.

 

* * *

 

The two weeks had come and gone. They had fallen into an almost-normal routine again with some exceptions – like sleeping in the same bed at night, John snuggled up to Rodney as if he was only four and Rodney the biggest teddybear in the world. Beckett had checked them over every now and then, but finally declared them fit again, very much to Sheppard’s delight and Rodney’s relief. So now both men were back on active duty and heading toward another off-world mission.

 

 

The first time Rodney stepped through the Stargate to explore another planet, he felt an unfamiliar tension. It was supposed to be a friendly planet with nice natives, with no aggression against visitors, but how often had they heard that before and then run for their lives?

<Relax>

McKay didn't know if Sheppard was even aware that he had used the link, or that he stood rather close by, P90 loosely cradled in one arm. Sharp eyes scanned the area while Teyla and Ronon secured the back. Rodney checked his scanner and found nothing. Not a blip.

"Where to?" Sheppard asked, looking at Telya.

The Athosian nodded straight ahead. "We walk this way. The settlement is near the river."

With Teyla in the lead and Ronon bringing up the back, the team started to walk. Rodney kept his attention on his scanner or just gazed around the landscape. It wasn't unlike the planet they had been rescued from, just… nicer.

<Itchy>

He frowned and shot his team leader a quizzical look. <What?>

<I… itch>

<Then scratch the itch, unless it's in a rather private area>

<No, not like this> Exasperation floated along with the words. <It's… like I want to run>

Rodney didn't know what to reply to that and thankfully there were a bunch of people approaching, which turned Sheppard's attention away from whatever was bothering him. Teyla greeted the three men, talked softly, then turned to the team, smiling. Introductions were made and the normal game of meet and greet began.

 

* * *

 

The Aren insisted they stay the night for the trade agreements to be viewed by the Elders, and Rodney grumbled all the way to the hut he had been told was for honored guests. There was a rather large bed, which was surprisingly soft, and while it didn't have his orthopedic mattress, Rodney's back had long since grown accustomed to sleeping on make-shift beds as it seemed.

He wasn't surprised to feel John's presence an hour later, the request for company unspoken. The silent shadow slipped into his hut and Rodney sighed with content, something he would argue he didn't feel, when the warm body was next to him again. As usual Sheppard would start out snuggled against him, an arm thrown over his stomach, and Rodney held no doubt that he wouldn't be there the next morning.

He was, of course, right.

From the way Ronon looked at him, Rodney had the brief impression that the other man knew what was happening, but he couldn't really interpret those looks. Ronon was hard to read and the permanent scowl didn't make it easier to see a friendly notion in the man.

So McKay ignored him.

They returned to Atlantis with a promising trade agreement, had their debriefing, and Rodney started to head for his lab.

<Rodney?>

The question was hesitant and he steeled himself for what was to come.

<Yes, Colonel?>

<Coffee?>

It was like a peace offering, though Rodney had no idea why it would be made. They had developed a kind of strange arrangement, and it even if it didn't help alleviate the loneliness completely, it did help them sleep at night.

He just nodded, sending his agreement, and Sheppard joined him a moment later, looking a bit sheepish.

<For not wanting this link, you like to use it> Rodney remarked, trying to keep the acid out of his voice.

John evaded his eyes. <Gotta live with it one way or the other. This is less painful>

<You hurt?> Rodney's brows climbed.

He didn't get an answer.

They chose a secluded table and McKay studied his friend, noting the fidgeting.

"Something you want to talk about, Colonel?" he asked out loud.

"No." <Yes… well, kinda>

<Make up your mind. I don't have all day>

Sheppard sighed and sipped at his coffee. <Are you okay with this?>

"With what?" Rodney asked, startling the other by using normal speech.

"This arrangement."

Rodney frowned. "As you said, it hurts."

"You… too?"

"If you mean the loneliness? Yes. I can feel that. It's cold. I hate it. I hate having you in my head even more, but I can live with it."

For a moment there was a startled silence. <You don't hate it> Sheppard stated after a while.

<And what makes you such an expert?> he snapped.

<I can feel you>

<News flash, Colonel: it's been like this ever since that accident>

The brown eyes held his own and Rodney felt his mouth go dry. The attraction was there again. He had fought it ever since their fight, but it was back – with a vengeance. How could a grown man, with impossible hair, look so vulnerable? How could he just _look_ and have Rodney almost literally on his knees?

<Stop that!> he sent harshly. <I'm not one of the willing and wanting alien bimbos you need to seduce!>

<Because you want me already?>

Another harsh swallow. Yes, he wanted him. Yes, he was attracted to John Sheppard. Yes, he lusted after that butt. And no, he wouldn't take advantage of Sheppard's vulnerability, or the mind link.

<I know all your dirty tricks, Sheppard. I'm not easy>

<Never said you are> Sheppard smiled a little, then he grew more serious. <And this isn't about sex. Or a one night stand. I'm afraid I'm losing it>

<Because you come crawling into my bed every single night by now?> Rodney demanded cruelly.

Sheppard gazed at the desk. "No," he said quietly. "I like that, too. I like the… warmth. I find it peaceful. But… when we were with the Aren… I had this urge to run. I could feel the animal… I wanted to become it again, be free, just race. I'm afraid I might become it again, Rodney."

McKay was silent, feeling his own shock at the words. They had no idea why John had reverted back into human form, so it might be possible he could just switch back once more.

<Let's go> he only murmured, aware that this was too public for Sheppard to have another breakdown.

<I won't break down!> came the indignant hiss.

"Uh-huh."

They walked and Rodney had no idea where he led them until they arrived on a small pier, one that had been cleared months ago.

The smell of the ocean was a welcome change to the filtered air of Atlantis. The sun was out, there were a few clouds, and a mild breeze touched their hair. Rodney watched as Sheppard walked over to the end of the pier, gazing out over the ocean.

The attraction was there again. He had told the truth that he had liked the man more than just as a fellow explorer in an unknown galaxy. He had been attracted to the boyishly handsome Major and he was still very much attracted to the Lieutenant Colonel. He had never been jealous of all the women swooning over Sheppard for more than maybe twenty-four hours. In Chaya's case the whole time she had been there. He had never thought he had more than a passing chance. Rodney himself hadn't been exclusive, and why should he have been? He had never thought to have a go at this.

But now?

"I think I can still do it," Sheppard said quietly, turning to face him. "Change. I don't know how, but it feels like it… This equine is still there. I have the same instincts."

<And there's also this> he added, using the mind link.

"A side product of the machine," Rodney only said.

John shuddered a little at the mentioning of the device. The physicist walked over to him, trying not to touch. In the end his hand was on Sheppard's back, drawing soothing patterns, a reminder of their solitary time. John leaned into the touch, eyes closed, and Rodney found himself smiling.

<This attraction,> the Colonel whispered, <what if it is the machine, too?>

<Like I said, it hasn't just been a few days> Rodney said with unusual patience. <It's been there since you triggered the Chair>

Silence greeted that statement. He continued the caresses and suddenly Sheppard leaned into his body, seeking more physical closeness, and lips brushed over his neck.

<I still itch> John complained weakly.

Rodney felt the tingle of skin where the lips had placed their kiss. He wanted nothing more than to kiss back, to kiss for real, but not here. Not out in the open.

<Maybe we can make a trip to the mainland?>

<And what?>

<See what happens>

There was a gust of warm air as Sheppard sighed and he clenched a hand into Rodney's shirt.

"I don't want to become this creature again."

"I like you better this way, too. Though you looked quite… handsome."

The brown eyes glared at him. "I was a horse, McKay!"

Rodney smirked. "A huge horse. A beautiful horse. I think every breeder would lust after your genes."

Sheppard glared at him. "McKay…"

The physicist suddenly leaned down and captured the pouting lips in a kiss. There was a shock of surprise across their connection, then Sheppard's hands clenched even more tightly into his shirt and his mouth opened up under the gentle pressure.

Closeness. Warmth. Protection. Safety. So much warmth.

The mind link seemed to flare brightly and Rodney heard a whimper that could have been either of them, then he tore himself away from the whirlpool of need and denial. Breathing hard he stared at an equally harshly breathing Colonel.

Sheppard laughed a little, sounding weak. There was an ebbing and gentle flowing of emotions to and from him, and Rodney found himself touching the other man like he had petted and caressed him as an equine.

<Nice> Sheppard whispered.

<You like, hm?>

<A lot>

<You know you don't have to do this, Colonel>

<I had enough time to think about our… situation>

<There is never enough time> Rodney pointed out.

<Part of me trusts you instinctively. Part of me needs you badly>

<And the rest?>

<Wants you>

Rodney had never been shy when something was so willingly offered to him, but John Sheppard wasn't a handsome male Lieutenant in Russia or some very cute one-night stand in a bar in a nameless town in the middle of Siberia. Both men had pleasured him, but no one had touched what this man did. John meant something to him. John shared something.

"We should go back," he only said, stepping away from the warmth that had been with him for so many nights now.

"Rodney…"

<Later. Right now… we need some distance>

<No!>

Again a soothing touch. <There is a briefing in an hour and I have a bunch of scientist-wanna-be's who need some serious ass-kicking> Another caress and John relaxed more. <Later> Rodney repeated.

"Okay," was the soft reply, and it hurt to let go, to walk away, to feel Sheppard's continued presence only in his mind.

 

* * *

 

They drifted together after dinner, after movie night, and John sighed contentedly when they slid together on the mattress. Lips sought out his and he couldn't but answer the kiss. It was what he needed, this intimate contact. There were more intimate ways of being together, but this was what both wanted.

<Still itching?> Rodney inquired.

<Not as badly. But it's still there. I want to run.>

<We should go to the mainland. See what happens> McKay decided, taking control of their kissing, pushing Sheppard down.

He had always been in control, even in the past three months, and it was natural now. He didn't lose a thought about how easily John relinquished his own control.

<But no more pain> Sheppard sighed, sounding pleased. <Nice and warm>

Rodney smiled, picking up the soothing pattern once more until the other man was asleep.  He looked at the Colonel for a long, long time, ran a gentle caress through the unruly hair, watched the smoothed-out features, and he kept an eye on their connection.

Sheppard was a sensual being, a sensual man. Whether this was a leftover from the horse, Rodney had no idea. Somehow it wasn't important.

It felt so good, so right, and it should have him running scared, but Rodney wasn't scared. For the first time in his life he knew that this was what he needed and wanted. He didn't know whether it was love or lust or something entirely different. It wasn't solely the machine either, though that had apparently helped along. Whatever it was, it was good.

Really, really good.

 

* * *

 

Waking up was a slow and leisurely process. Feeling wrapped in a warm blanket that seemed to enclose his mind as well, John Sheppard stretched lazily, keeping his eyes closed against the first rays of sun that where creeping through the blinds. There was a warm sensation running through his body, making him sigh in contentment and something else as it centered itself in his groin area, becoming more defined with the second.

Fingers brushed over his belly, teasingly dancing over the dust of hair before they dipped deeper, slipped beneath the waistband of the sweatpants he had been sleeping in. John moaned softly when those knowing fingers closed around him, played him slowly, but far from hesitantly. His hips bucked into the touch involuntarily and his mind chose this moment to give waking up entirely a try. But the warmth was back like a blanket and John whimpered when the action in his nether regions became more urgent.

<Been a while, hm?>

<Oh god, Rodney…>

He rolled halfway onto his back, spreading his legs farther, granting his seducer more access. He was pressed against Rodney’s firm body now, could feel him completely now, and Rodney pushed a knee between his thighs from behind, keeping them apart as he leaned over him. John turned into the touch and then there were lips on his, and he heard someone whimper and then sob and it surely couldn’t be him, could it? But then Rodney stroked and squeezed somehow and he jerked and…

<John!>

…cried out incoherently both mentally and verbally as he exploded and melted at the same time.

 

 

Warm, moist tissue brushing over his stomach made him blink lazily, taking in his surrounding for real now. Blinds, halfway closed, laptop on a desk, a few cluttered clothes, some of them his… Rodney.

<Morning>

<What was that, Rodney?>

<Oh, it _really_ must have been some time if you have to _ask_ > was the sharp but amused response.

<Damn, Rodney. You know what I mean! Why? Why now?>

<Because I had some time to think, John. And some time to watch you>

<You watched me?>

<Yes. That’s what scientists do for a living, you know? I – experimented>

<With me?>

<No. With this mind link. It can do a lot of things, you know. I got the idea when you said I was ‘broadcasting’. I really was. And so did you. All I had to do was take the time to really look and listen>

<Uh – and that brought this on?>

Sheppard gestured toward himself and Rodney who had slipped into bed again, propped up on one elbow and watched him.

<As a result, yes>

And then there were lips again, claiming him, and hands carding through is hair and a pleasant weight pushing him into the mattress and the warm sensation in his mind was back, and now John associated this with Rodney’s presence. Not that Rodney hadn’t been there before, but this was different, deeper, more – intimate. 

<I’ll have you know one thing, Colonel – I’m an exclusive top. Can you live with that?> Rodney whispered in his mind.

<If I can live with… oh god Rodney, just like that… yes!>

And that answered that.

 

*

 

"How many?" Rodney asked, enjoying the closeness he had with the nude, warm, very much alive form of John Sheppard in his arms.

One hand was caressing his lover's neck, a thumb rubbing over the short hair he found there. Sheppard was almost purring.

"Huh?"

"How many men have you had before me?"

"It's not nice to ask about past lovers after the first time."

Rodney's brows climbed a little. "It isn't?"

"No."

"Just checking your level of experience."

Sheppard pushed himself up and glowered at him. "I'm experienced enough. How about you?" he demanded.

"Russia can teach you a thing or two."

"Ivan knew some kinky tricks?"

McKay smirked. "You don't know half of it."

"I'm a very willing student, Dr. McKay."

Rodney pulled the other man into a kiss, enjoying how enthusiastically it was returned.

"You had full penetration?" he asked softly when they parted.

"Yes, Mom, I know where everything goes."

<I don't want to hurt you, John> he murmured, kissing him again.

<You won't. And I want to know about Ivan>

Blue eyes lit up with mischief and knowing. "You'll regret this day, Colonel."

<I won't.>

 

* * *

 

Things changed for the better from then on. Interaction between Sheppard and McKay was back to what everyone was used to. There were the sarcastic remarks, the snarks, the bitching, the groaning and whining, and the snapping and arguing. Rodney had Ancient doohickeys for their natural ATA carrier to touch, he threw himself into research and work, and he was the bane of every scientist's existence.

Off-world missions were a hit and miss, as usual, and their encounters with Wraith or unfriendly natives were at the normal percentage level.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Aside from spending the nights together.

It was always Rodney's game, his control. John wasn't submissive, but he was the bottom. Rodney didn't dominate in turn. He just led his lover where he wanted him.

Rodney gazed at the sleeping man. He liked watching. He liked the relaxed expression in Sheppard's face, the way he moved languidly when he woke, the way he smiled at him, the way those bedroom eyes seemed to warm even more when they fell on him. And he couldn't get enough of the hoarse voice shouting his name as John came under his expert strokes and ministrations. It was that tension within the hard muscles, the pants and gasps, and finally the keening cry that had Rodney come, too.

<We should have done this a lot sooner> Sheppard murmured and moved languidly, grinning at him.

<You were a horse for the past months, in case you forgot>

<I haven't. And I'm not into bestiality, Rodney>

<Good to know>

John caught his lips, teased them open, and their tongues met leisurely. Rodney moved to blanket the slender form and caressed the warm skin.

<The others are getting suspicious> Sheppard murmured.

<Let them>

<You're not worried>

<I'm always worried, but not about something as inconsequential as that. If they can't handle this, they're not ready for a new galaxy> Rodney muttered in disdain.

Sheppard laughed and had to break the kiss. <Yeah, probably>

<What about you?" Rodney wanted to know.

"I'll follow your lead," his lover whispered.

"Wise man."

Rodney let his hand stray down to the semi-interested arousal, stroking over the length. John moaned a little, already spreading his legs. Rodney let a finger trail down the sensitive skin and teased the most intimate place, smiling as a shudder raced along the mind link. Sheppard pulled up one leg, clearly indicating he wanted this, and Rodney kissed him hungrily, plundering the willing mouth.

Lube was a given in both their rooms and McKay pushed a finger into the tight opening, relishing the groan of need that tore from his lover's lips. A second finger followed quickly, and John bucked into the penetration.

"Rodney…" he groaned. "Now… now!"

No foreplay wanted. The link brought that across quite clearly and Rodney wasn't inclined to fight it.

<Ready?>

<In me! Now!>

And he pushed inside, making Sheppard cry out and push his hips into the contact.

Oh god…

"Please, Rodney, move… move! Hard… need you… please…"

And the link was flooding with emotions. Rodney didn't know where this sudden hunger came from, but he did as his lover wanted, and he moved hard and deep into the tight heat. Each deep penetration had Sheppard groan or gasp, push back, want more, and Rodney felt his last control flutter and finally break.

When he finally came it was to the yell of completion from his Colonel. It was an explosion that left him gasping, and from the way Sheppard was clenching his fingers into his back he knew he would have marks on his back.

<Good god…>

Sheppard moaned weakly as Rodney pulled out, feeling the sting, the soreness, and McKay soothed the shaking man with equally shaking hands. He cleaned them up, then collapsed next to the other man, tired and very, very satisfied.

<What brought that on?>

<I wanted you. Do I need a reason?> Sheppard asked impishly.

A hand rested on Rodney's hip, not going anywhere.

"No foreplay?" McKay quoted.

"Didn't need it."

"I noticed. Vampire."

That got him a lazy smile. "Energizer bunny," was the only reply.

 

* * *

 

Outside their encounters on a more private level, nothing much had changed. John still hung out around the lab, looking over Rodney's shoulder, poking at doohickeys, playing with gadgets, driving his lover insane sometimes, and grinning irreverently when McKay got into full snark mode. Rodney himself kept his staff running for their lives with demands, kept track of all the science projects, even the most boring and uninteresting ones, and he regularly chewed the newer staff members a new one.

Breaking them in, he called it. John watched it with amusement. He had to do something similar with new Marines coming aboard the Daedalus, but he didn't rip their heads off right before they even opened their mouths.

It was four months after their return to Atlantis that a kind of normalcy had settled in, at least for their newly defined relationship. Sheppard had no idea whether anyone suspected anything or not. They were discrete and aside from a few looks, they got nothing.

Sheppard wasn't really worried. 'Don't ask don't tell' wasn't a concern. He would openly tell whoever asked that yes, he was in love with Dr. Rodney McKay, and yes, they were sleeping together, but no one asked.

<You would?> Rodney asked one evening as they sat together, watching a movie in their private quarters.

<Yeah. Surprised?>

<Kinda>

<Why? You think I'd hide what we have? I wouldn't hide it if my lover was a woman>

That got him a strange look. <Military and gay don't exactly compliment each other> McKay only said.

<Who I sleep with is my private concern. I don't care who any of my men sleep with, as long as they keep it out of their jobs and don't contract a STD, for which I'd have to rip their heads off. Sexual preference doesn't change us. We're a team, we have to trust each other, and I can name you a handful of people who are either gay or bi and live it>

Rodney frowned. <If we were still closed off and alone in this part of the galaxy, I'd agree, but we aren't>

<So? If this was Earth, I'd still sleep with you>

The blue eyes flashed daggers of ice. <Why, thank you, Colonel. Now I feel so much better>

Sheppard leaned against the sturdier body, smiling impishly. <I hope you are. It was a compliment>

Rodney huffed, but he didn't push the other man away. <So this is all about not bringing up your private issues?>

<Kinda. I don't want to know about anyone's ingrown toe nails, too>

<Being gay is the perfect comparison to that> was the acid reply.

Sheppard gave him a serious look. <Don't you think everyone who initially came here or who comes aboard the Daedalus isn't screened first? Not just a simple screening, but a very deep evaluation into prejudice, psychological problems, stress and pressure points, and so much more>

Rodney grunted. <Yeah, well…>

"No one who comes here failed any of the very tight requirements, Rodney," Sheppard explained. "All SGC Commanders go by this screening process. Whoever was chosen for the expedition, they all knew this might be a one way street. There is no room for fear of being different. If you can't tolerate difference in your own fellow man, how can you deal with aliens? How can you deal with space travel? And it wasn't just the military. The science team underwent the same screening. Even you."

That got him a grimace.

"You came through with flying colors," John added with a smirk.

"So you're saying that your men can tolerate alien encounters as well as a gay commander?"

<I'm saying> John said slowly, <that my men can ignore such matters as long as they don't have to watch us making out in the hallway or have to listen to us humping off-world in some village hut. Private is private. Keep it out of the job, don't let it interfere with a mission, and you'll be left alone>

<Won't I interfere with your job?>

<You're on my team, but you're not my lieutenant or any other rank. You're a fellow team member and happen to be the head geek>

<And you're the head jock. Perfect combination>

Sheppard smirked. <Always told you we make a kick-ass team>

Rodney leaned down and brushed their lips together. "The geek always gets the jock," he murmured.

John chuckled. "I'm one lucky guy."

 

* * *

 

Matters were smoothing out more and more every day. John still sought out his lover for the night, but when they were off planet, the need to be there was less prominent. Sheppard could go a night or two without the cuddling and snuggling, and Rodney was relieved that a new independence was reached. He had been afraid that, while it was nice, things would become even more intense. As it was, he had discovered a method to charge his lover's emotional batteries.

For one there was the link between them. It transmitted emotions if either of them concentrated on them for that purpose, so Rodney could calm John down over a distance, almost make him feel a hug or a caress. John had experimented in turn and found he could reciprocate. Then there was making out in deserted corners of Atlantis, which was a regular favorite.

Like right now.

Rodney had his Colonel pushed against the wall, trapped between his arms, and he was kissing him within an inch of his life. Sex was for private quarters, but kissing and heavy necking was another matter.

Sure, there were important matters in the lab awaiting him. There was Zelenka who wanted to run an equation with him, but Rodney had felt the need accumulate and he had taken a break to seek out the other man and supply the much needed touch.

<You're so sensual> he whispered.

Sheppard moaned softly, hands clenching into Rodney's jacket, pulling him close, and McKay nipped harshly at the swollen lips. John was breathing hard, obviously aroused, and Rodney smirked as he caught sight of the hickey his lover had hidden under his uniform jacket today. He pushed the fabric aside and licked over the bright mark, making John shudder.

Intense make-out sessions like these had the effect that both men could go without close contact at night, especially Sheppard, and when they added blowjobs or a quick handjob, it had Sheppard float for days to come. It made interaction and normalcy so much easier. Rodney was a busy man and he couldn't always be there for regular sleep. Sheppard had remarked on his all-nighters and Rodney had brushed him off.

"You stay in your side of the court, I play in mine. Me scientist, you caveman. You shoot the bad guys, I'll think of smart ways to run away."

Working all night or getting little sleep was nothing new and Sheppard was aware of it, but before there hadn't been this connection. So they charged batteries another way, came up with solutions to the feeling of loneliness. John was getting better at handling being by himself and Rodney was getting very talented at figuring out ways to use the mind link to soothe his lover.

"You're easy," Rodney murmured, trailing a path toward one ear, biting its lobe gently.

"And you fall for the neediness every time, Rodney."

He laughed. "As if. I can feel your hunger."

"Apparently equines are sex addicts."

Rodney smirked. "I think I can live with that."

"Was hoping for it."

He released the other man from his trap and pulled him into his arms, savoring the contact.

"Geek meeting," Rodney murmured. "Gotta be there. Head geek, you know."

Sheppard nuzzled his neck. "Very much aware of the geekiness."

"Good." Rodney released him and studied the warm brown eyes. "You good, too?"

John gave him an affectionate smile. "Very. Go and do your stuff, Supergeek. I'll do mine."

"Uh-huh."

Whatever Sheppard did when there was no mission, the Daedalus wasn't parked out front, and everything was for once calm and quiet. Probably play soldier with the other kids.

Rodney went to his meeting, pushing recollections of the very hot encounter aside. He was looking forward to a night spent together again, but with the latest discovery of Ancient data in a remote lab, he knew their relationship had to survive on these make-out sessions for now.

 

* * *

 

"I've been thinking."

Sheppard stopped from taking a new bite to eat, eyes flaring with mischief, and Rodney raised a finger.

"Don't. Not a word about thinking and how it hurts."

"Would I ever say something like that?"

"Yes, you would, Colonel."

"You wound me, Rodney."

"Not as much as I'll wound you if you don't stop thinking about saying it!"

Sheppard grinned irreverently, then took the bite he had interrupted.

"You were thinking?" he prompted with a full mouth.

"Oh, disgusting," was Rodney's reply. "Ew. Anyway, about the machine…"

John swallowed, all humor gone from his eyes. "Rodney…"

"No, you listen. We gotta get over that phobia of yours."

"You get yourself turned into a freaking alien horse and we'll talk phobia!" the Colonel snapped.

"As I was saying about the machine," McKay plowed on, glaring at the other man. "Why did it turn you into an alien horse?"

"Huh?"

"Very intelligent reply to a very complex question."

"So give me an easy answer."

"There is none. Only speculation. One," McKay raised his right index finger, "it might be to free the inner animal in you."

Sheppard opened his mouth to argue, but the physicist didn't give him a chance.

"Which is unlikely, considering what you turned out to be. If you had become a horse, sure, why not? But a two-horned horse? Larger than anything that might be a horse on Earth? Not likely."

"There are large horses on Earth."

"With two horns?"

Silence. Rodney smiled triumphantly.

"So it's not the inner you. Two," he raised a second finger, "it might be a life form indigenous to M7B-377, but that brings us to the observation that we didn't run into any kind of larger life form in those three months, let alone a herd of two-horned alien horses."

"They might be extinct. That was a pretty old ruin."

"But the machine worked."

"One more time before it collapsed," Sheppard muttered.

"Yes, we were so lucky," was Rodney's acid addition.

It got him a glare.

"Anyway, three," and the third finger came up, "what if those were always chance transformations? That you happened to become a horse and someone else might have become some kind of dog?"

"Lucky me," Sheppard grumbled.

"Yes, lucky you. Can I say bug?"

Brown eyes flared and the grimace was quite tell-tale. Rodney nodded his agreement.

"I've been going through the Ancient data base and I found some references to that planet. They were deeply hidden underneath all kinds of crap, and so far I'm having a hard time accessing all of them. Looks like the planet was home to some kind of remote lab, like I suspected, but it was abandoned. There hasn't been said a lot about what they were doing there, but I'll keep digging."

"And then what?"

Rodney frowned.

"Rodney, we can't change what happened. Neither of us is going back to that planet and I, for one, don't want to know about the why. I'm too glad to be me again."

"But you can still feel the equine instincts," Rodney argued. "That's not normal."

"I felt Iratus bug instincts, too."

"For a week! Not months!"

"I wasn't that far gone with the conversion process. Carson caught it in time. The horse…" John hesitated. "It was complete. It lasted months."

"You still itch to run."

"I have a handle on it."

Rodney's expression said it all concerning what he thought about that statement.

"So what you're saying," John concluded, daring McKay to make a comment, "is that you have no idea. That's different to how compared to the beginning of this conversation?"

"Science is research," was the haughty reply. "I'm researching. And you're not helping."

<Want me to change back into a freaking big horse to run tests?> John snapped, not even aware that he was silently glaring and using the link.

"Would you?"

"Forget it." Sheppard got to his feet, ignoring the last of his lunch on the lab desk, stalking out of the room.

He almost ran over Zelenka, who shot him a bewildered look.

"You two fight again?" the Czech asked.

"No, we had hot sex on the lab bench!" Rodney shot back, throwing the sandwich into the recycler.

"Ah, I figured." Zelenka picked up some tools and left again, smirking a little.

Rodney muttered an expletive under his breath and went back to his research. All he had wanted to do was keep Sheppard up to date, tell him he was trying to figure out what and why it had happened. Somehow that had come across totally wrong. Well, he sighed inwardly, for now theoretical research would have to do.

 

 

When there was a soft tug at the link Rodney didn’t even realize how much time had already passed.

<Six hours, Rodney. Doing something exciting?>

<More or less. What is it?>

There was barely concealed excitement.

<The Daedalus is back. Guess what they brought us?>

<A whole new box of DVDs, real coffee...>

<Thank god!>

<Knew you’d like. And I have a surprise for you>

<Surprise? What is it?>

 <The nature of surprises is to surprise, Rodney. Come to your quarters and take a look>

 

*

 

“John… this is… what is this?”

“A piano? Well, not really a piano, because for some reason I just couldn’t convince Caldwell to bring one here. Something about necessity and storage space and all. This is the next best thing.”

“It’s a keyboard.”

“Yes. And you can make it sound like a piano. Steinway even. I know you can play.”

“I haven’t played in ages. My teacher said…“

“Rodney, it’s not important what your teacher said. I play guitar, and I’m certainly not stage material. But I know one thing about music – you have to feel it to be real good. To play with soul you need to have a little experience in life, and no twelve year old should have that. You like?”

He pointed toward the flexible keyboard, the latest technological development in the field of musical instruments.

“I’m not sure.”

<Try it?>

<John, I haven’t played in ages>

<Please?>

Rodney sighed. And stretched his fingers. John Sheppard begging was his undoing every time.

And when the first keys danced through the room he closed his eyes and solely concentrated on the music.

And totally missed John smiling very, very softly.

 

* * *

 

John Sheppard was becoming bothered.

Well, not ‘bothered’ bothered. He had been a little more observant concerning his recently increased love-life. He loved being with Rodney, more than that, because Rodney had turned out to be a very considerate lover. He knew how to touch and caress him like no one he had ever done before and the mind link they shared certainly helped. It was nearly impossible for John to keep any walls upright when Rodney went down on him, playing him like an instrument; exchanging sweet almost-there caresses with harder grips just enough to rattle John even more. Rodney had kissed every inch of his body, and god, if that wouldn’t be enough to make him melt, he knew exactly how to drive him wild all over again when he would slowly push into him while holding him down gently, moving inside him, all the time stroking and kissing him until he was about to scream. And only then he would grant him completion, following him with a choked sobbing sound.

But Rodney would not let John touch him.

He would kiss, oh yes, and lots of that. He would allow John to run his hands over his body, but whenever John wanted to reach down and stroke Rodney or tease his chest, fingering a nipple, he would find his arms taken and pinned gently over his head, and then Rodney would kiss him again and he would find himself responding to the touch and the images and words and sensations in his mind and he would forget everything else.

He loved it. It was the most satisfying thing he had had in a long time. And he loved Rodney. Therefore he wanted to seduce Rodney, wanted to make it good for him as well. When they were together, Rodney came each and every time, too, and each and every time he looked as satisfied as John felt. And though John was absolutely okay with the fact Rodney wanted to top exclusively he wanted to see his lover, just once, losing himself in the sensation like he himself did every time. Just once.

So John was becoming bothered.

And started thinking.

And grinned.

 

*

 

It wasn’t all that hard to set his plan into action. All he had to do was wait for the right moment. Which occurred only a few days later.

They had fallen asleep, cuddled together, Rodney holding John, and he had to admit it felt wonderful, safe and warm. Waking up early had its advantage, too, John decided, turning and watching Rodney in the semi-light that fell through the blinds into the room, indicating it wasn’t even day yet. John reached out for his lover, both physically and mentally, sensing Rodney being close to waking up.

Running his hand over the naked chest and abdomen, he took his time, concentrating on how the slight dust of hair felt under his fingers or how soft the skin was, brushing over a nipple and then dipping deeper under the blanket.

Rodney stirred and sighed, clearly making his way toward the land of the waking now. John couldn’t help the grin when he felt under his hands just how awake Rodney already was, parts of him obviously taking more interest than others.

Blue eyes blinked, and John leaned over, stealing a kiss as his hand did a little more wandering.

<Hey, sleeping beauty>

<John?>

Sheppard snickered. Even the mind-voice sounded sleepy.

<Who else would you expect fondling you in the morning?>

<Uh … >

Not very coherent then. John stroked the tip of Rodney’s hardness and saw blue eyes widening.

<What are you doing?>

<As I said, feeling you up>

John leaned over again, pressing their lips together again and opened the mind-link.

<Oh god … John, what are you …>

<I know you’re a top, Rodney, but I want to let you know how good it is, how good you make me feel. You can feel it this way, too>

<No! John, don’t … >

And then blue eyes glazed over and Rodney moaned as John broadcasted, sent what it was like, how it was for him to feel Rodney inside him. Straddling his lover John ran his hands over his body, taking in the reaction and grinning widely – who would have thought Rodney McKay could make such sounds? He nibbled his way down Rodney’s throat which caused a deep moan, sucked at a nipple and felt Rodney arch almost violently under him, crying out, fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheet. John slid his hand between his lover’s legs and the stream of incoherent words and sounds increased. He slid down Rodney’s body, spread his legs and let the feelings rush through him, too, as he opened the link wider, both sending and receiving, creating a loop of sensations.

Rodney’s eyes snapped open, hands closed around his hips and John hissed at the sudden pain of fingers digging deep into his flesh. Rodney held him almost immobile, thrusting up into him and this time John cried out hoarsely. Each hard shove managed to massage that certain point within him that turned his spine into molten lava and caused him to see stars, and from the way Rodney was arching and thrashing his lover was right with him. And then Rodney screamed and the fingers bit into his hips and John felt the mind-link sing with the power of his lover’s climax – which shoved him right over the edge, too.

 

 

<Holy cow, Rodney! Didn’t know you had it in you>

John groaned, rolling away from his lover, wondering if Rodney felt as boneless and sated as he himself. It had been – well, unexpected, but great. He would be a bit sore and – yes, make that definitely sore.

<Rodney?>

There was no response whatsoever.

“Rodney?”

Blue eyes gazed emptily at him and now John was officially worried.

“Rodney, what’s wrong?”

 “What did I do?”

“What do you mean, what did you do? You let go, for the first time I think, and it was …what?”

Rodney’s eyes had wandered down his body, widening with panic, and he had stretched out his hand.

Placing it on his hip.

Exactly over one of the red hand-shaped bruises that were about to form.

“Oh no… “

“Rodney, what...?”

“Oh no! Nonononono...”

Rodney scrambled back as far as he could, slipping out of bed and reaching for his clothes, all the time muttering something under his breath. John knew this behavior – panic attack about to happen. What he didn’t get, not even over the link, was why.

“Rodney, what the hell is wrong?!”

“I’m sorry, I did… I shouldn’t have…” He pointed toward the bruises and finally John got it.

“Yes, you should have. You lost it a bit there, okay, but it was good. I wanted you to.”

“I… you… What?!”

"I wanted you to let go. I made you.”

Rodney stared at him as if he had just sprouted a new head and proclaimed his undying love for a Wraith.

"You… you made me? You… oh my god you used the link!"

Sheppard nodded slowly.

Rodney was still staring at him, eyes impossibly wide, then his face locked up. There was this coldness and John felt the abrupt wall rise between them.

<Rodney?!>

"You manipulated me, you bastard!" McKay spat. "You used the mind link to… to… you controlled me! You made me do this! You… you have no idea… you did this to me!”

His voice had risen with every sentence and by now there was an almost hysteric quality to it.

"Rodney…" Sheppard rose, but was stopped by McKay's abrupt gesture.

"Don't. Don't come a step closer," the physicist said coldly. "Leave me alone. Stay... away!"

"Rodney, listen!"

"I'm done listening! Good-bye, Colonel!"

And with that he was out the door.

John sank onto the bed, not even aware that he was trembling. His mind felt empty and the wall was like a cold, sleek barrier that mocked him.

What had he done? Why had Rodney reacted so badly to having some really great, albeit a little rough, sex? He had lost control, sure, but Rodney had given up control so many times and it was always pleasure and satisfaction.

One hand touched the red imprint of Rodney's hand on his hip. He knew his lover was gentle, caring, attentive, that he had never hurt him, but this was just… superficial. It wasn't like he had forced himself on Sheppard, had really taken him by force. Sheppard had surrendered and it had been incredible.

So why?

John took a shower and dressed slowly, then left his quarters. He walked the city, lost in thought, now and then turning toward the link, but it was closed off. A pissed off Rodney managed quite some walls and Sheppard wasn't inclined to seek him out immediately.

He would give this time.

Then they would talk.

 

* * *

 

For the next three days everything declined more or less at the same speed. Rodney refused to talk to Sheppard and Sheppard was pouring himself into work as a response. There were painful shields up on both sides, both men reacting from anger and stubbornness. Sheppard went on off-world missions to planets they had already visited, accompanying science teams or some of his Marines as they secured a trade transport. Each time he stepped through the Stargate, it was as if an already painfully stretched thin line was stretched even further until he ran around with a permanent headache. Each thought hurt, each movement was hell, and the moment he came back, seeing Rodney up on the control floor, their eyes locking, he wanted nothing more than to hold him.

But Rodney refused. There was this icy distance, blue eyes reflecting pain and anger and betrayal.

Sheppard had regular training sessions with Teyla and Ronon, concentrating only on his moves, on his instincts, and he ignored the aching connection between him and Rodney.

 

 

Rodney himself had been almost like on automatic as well. It normally didn't take him too long to reach a breakdown, but this time there was a delayed reaction. He tried to stave off the inevitable by plunging into research, running tests and translating Ancient data into something that made sense.

Still, it happened. Probably because of Sheppard's long absences through the Gate travel. Every time John walked through the event horizon, Rodney felt this stabbing sensation in his mind, felt the headache flare, and he crawled into his lab in agony. He had spent one mission curled up on his bed, whimpering in pain, until he had finally taken a heavy dose of painkillers. They had dulled all sensation and he had managed to at least function, but it had been hell.

On day four, after another sleepless night that had actually not been a night at all, everything broke down. That night had been a few hours caught after an all-nighter, tossing and turning. When he had felt the brittle walls of his last line of defense give way, Rodney knew this would be bad.

 _He manipulated me._

It ran through Rodney's mind as he stumbled through his quarters, everything starting to collapse around him.

 _He used the link. He influenced me. He made me do things._

He started to tremble. Sheppard had used something private, something that made him, Rodney McKay, vulnerable, and he had abused Rodney's trust!

 _I lost control. He manipulated me. I lost control. I raped him._

A soft, keening sound left his lips at the last thought. He had forced himself onto the other man. He had abused John's trust in return. He had lost control of himself and he had forced Sheppard to have sex with him.

The bruises. Glaring red. Sheppard couldn't claim they didn't hurt. They had to have hurt like hell when Rodney had gripped him, and now…

 _I raped him. I took him by force. I…_

 _He trusted me!_

Like on M7B-377. Sheppard had depended on him. He had been alone and frightened and it had been Rodney's task to keep everything together. He had been the one in control, too. He had never lost it. He had stayed there, with John, all the way.

 _Lost it now. Hurt him. Abused him. He manipulated me. I hurt him. I raped him. He abused my trust, but I abused his body._

Rodney stumbled a few more steps, then sank down the wall, the tremors by now harder.

The past was catching up to him at light speed. The stress of the past months had finally found a moment to tear down his walls and he was unable to fight it. The physical reaction was only the starting point as Rodney McKay started to break down in what he would have described in a fantastic manner of total breakdown-ness.

The shields on John's side would make sure that the other man didn't get a single whiff of what was happening. It was all Rodney thought of before he gave himself up to the emotional meltdown in his mind.

 _Don't let him know. Hurt him enough._

 

* * *

 

Rodney had no idea how long he had sat in a corner of his quarters, knees drawn up, arms curled around them, staring at nothing. He knew he had cried. He knew he had screamed before. He knew that if he was a more physical person he would have wrecked his things.

As it was, he came around, out of the dark hole he had fallen into, to the sun setting before his windows. He blinked, feeling the dried tears on his skin, his lids, and he sniffled a little.

Shakily he managed to get up, his legs weak, like jelly, and aching all over. He felt drained, wrung out, and the tremors were fine shivers now. How he made it out of his quarters, down the hallway and through the corridors was a mystery to him. There weren't many people around. Had to be dinner time. The few he met didn't really give him a close enough look or just figured that Dr. McKay was pulling a new record in non-stop work, the way he probably looked.

As Rodney entered med bay, his eyes tracked almost frantically around the room until they fell on Beckett. His friend was sitting at his desk, working on something or other.

"Carson?" he asked. "Uh…. You got a moment?"

He sounded bad. It was what had Beckett turn around immediately and get up. Worry lined his face.

"Rodney? What happened to you?"

Rodney shook his head, one hand weakly waving the doctor away. "Can we talk privately?"

Beckett's eyes narrowed a little, then he nodded. "My office?"

"You got any alcohol in there? Scotch?"

"Rodney…"

"Not for me. You. You'll need it," Rodney said tiredly.

"What's going on?"

"Office," was all the physicist said and staggered toward the secluded area which had, thankfully, a locked door.

Carson followed and at Rodney's pointed look, he locked the door and got out a bottle of Scotch with two glasses. He filled them both.

"So, what is it?" Carson wanted to know. "You look like death warmed over. And that's a compliment."

"Something happened on M7B-377. In the time I was trapped playing wilderness adventure scouts with Sheppard."

The other man frowned, but he kept his silence.

"Carson, what I'm going to tell you… it's confidential. Doctor-patient confidential. You can't run to Elizabeth with it," Rodney added, voice dead-serious.

"Rodney, you know I won't reveal any medical problems to even Dr. Weir if it doesn't compromise the security of Atlantis."

Rodney sighed. "I'm not sure how you categorize this. I'm afraid you might just do that running bit. But please… I need your promise."

"Rodney…"

"Sheppard won't tell anyone and I need to talk to someone other than him," McKay implored. "A friend. Not a doctor or the head physician of the expedition. Carson…?"

The Scot took a deep breath, then sighed. There was a clear turmoil in his eyes and he didn't really want to give that promise, but finally he nodded.

"I'll be here as a friend. Nothing you tell me leaves this room." Beckett looked thoughtful all of a sudden. "Is this about you and Colonel Sheppard… being.. together?"

Rodney paled slightly, then spluttered, "W-what? No! No, it isn't about that!"

"Good, because other than giving you the sound advice to be careful, use protection, and ask you about your condition, I wouldn't know what to do."

Rodney glared at him. "It isn't about that! It's…" He stopped, not sure how to start. "There are a few facts missing from the report Sheppard and I gave," he finally said. At Carson's expression he added, "Personal things. You see, the Colonel turned into a horse…"

 

*

 

Carson Beckett knew that Scotch had been a very good idea as he listened to his friend explain what hadn't been in the report. His mind was going at the speed of light, whirling and twisting and grinding to sudden halts whenever a new fact was added. He stared at Rodney as the other man explained more or less calmly and in order what had occurred. He was fascinated by the instinctual behavior of the alien horse, how Sheppard communicated by using a kind of telepathic bond, and how Rodney had reacted to the changed man.

McKay himself was mostly matter-of-fact, but emotions bled into some moments and Carson smiled to himself. The emotions were clear and he marveled how clear-headed his sometimes rather scared friend had been in such an intense situation.

"So you are sleeping together," was the first thing he said after Rodney had finished.

It got him an incredulous look. "I'm telling you about some mind-boggling transformation of our military commander on an alien world, and you comment on my love life?!" he exclaimed, voice rising.

"Do you think it's connected?"

"Do I think…? Carson, I've been looking at his ass ever since I first saw him in Antarctica! Seeing his naked horse ass is not what triggered what happened later!"

Carson chuckled. "Probably not. So, does he hear you right now? Can he listen in on us?"

"No. I told you, I shut him out," Rodney snarled. "He manipulated me!"

"Sounds to me like you never told him about your hypersensitivity. The Colonel experimented with your connection, which I must add, I think is relevant to the security of Atlantis."

He gave Rodney a pointed look. McKay glared.

"Rodney, I think you should tell Elizabeth."

"I told _you_. In confidence. As a friend."

"Because you need my advice?"

Shoulder dropped a little and blue eyes evaded his look. Eloquent hands moved weakly. "Kinda."

"I'm not a psychologist."

"Neither is Elizabeth," McKay snapped.

"No. No, she isn't. True. Have you considered Kate?"

Blue eyes gave him a scathing look. "I've consulted her for a great many of my nightmares and I talk to her about them. But I can hardly tell her about something like that!"

"She has every security clearance needed, Rodney."

"I don't care about security!"

"You care about John and what this means?" Carson smiled faintly.

Rodney sputtered something.

"Do you love him, Rodney?"

Rodney's head snapped up and he glared once more. "What?"

"I asked if you love him."

"I… I think so."

"But you never told him about the hypersensitivity," Beckett changed the topic.

"It never came up! You think I hop into bed and outline my medical file to whoever I meet!?"

"No, I think you spent three months getting to know Colonel John Sheppard, having him depend on you mentally as well as physically, and you have regular sex with him."

The glare intensified.

"What angers you more?" Beckett asked. "Him experimenting with the connection you have or you losing control?"

Rodney sat silently on the bed, arms crossed, chewing his lower lip. "He betrayed my trust," he finally growled.

"He only tried out something new. You used the connection to soothe him when the animal instinct was too much for him to handle on his own. You did the same, without asking him, without his consent."

"So not helping!"

Beckett smiled. "It's about control. You lost it."

"Of course I lost it! And I hurt him!" He groaned softly. "I hurt him, Carson."

"Rodney, who is John Sheppard?"

"What?"

"Who is he?"

"What are you talking about, Carson?"

"He's a Lieutenant Colonel of the United States Airforce. He is a trained military officer. He ran black ops in Afghanistan. He has run countless missions off-world. He knows how to take down an enemy, Rodney," Carson brought his point home. "Without using a gun. Don't you think he could have pushed you off if he had wanted to?"

"I lost control!" Rodney cried. "I held him down! I left my prints on his hips!" He held up both hands. "I'm not some weakling! I left bruises! I know I did! I lost total control and I raped him!"

"No," Carson said quietly.

"What do you call it then?"

"I doubt you could rape him, Rodney. Even if you held his hips, he is close combat trained. He is stronger than you, even if he weighs less."

Rodney frowned, still furious. "You want to tell me he liked it? He's into pain?!"

"No. I think you both got lost in the throes of passion."

"It wasn't passion!"

"Did you ask him?"

Rodney shut down all of a sudden and turned away.

"You walked away," Carson translated the silence. "It won't help, Rodney. You need to talk to him and looking at Colonel Sheppard's behavior in the last five days – five days exactly between your sexual intercourse and today – he's one very hurting being."

"He's not weak," McKay growled.

"Aye, but the instinct you told me about… Rodney, that connection between you runs deep. You can hurt him more severely by shutting him out than by talking about what happened." Beckett sighed. "I don't want to see him run himself into the ground."

"He's fine!"

Carson sighed loudly. "Right." He rose and grabbed Rodney by one arm, pulling him out the door.

"Hey, careful there!" McKay protested. "I bruise!"

Realizing his words, he clamped his mouth shut and hissed an expletive.

Carson ignored him and simply dragged the stubborn individual of a friend toward the mess hall. It wasn't very busy, but there were enough people. One of them happened to be Sheppard, staring at an almost full tray.

"See that? It's been like this for at least four days. Make it five if he reacted immediately to your stone-walling him."

Rodney's eyes were on the listlessly eating Sheppard, who just now pushed the full tray away, looking disgusted at the mere sight of food.

"The human body doesn't lose weight in pounds within five days, but it's not healthy. Without enough nutritional intake, the system starts using up fat storage. Hunger makes you weaker, makes you slower, and if he runs into a hostile force like this, you know he won't be able to react quickly enough," the doctor said matter-of-factly. "Talk to him, Rodney. Explain. Tell him the truth and for god's sake stop cutting him off. You need each other."

Beckett gave the other man a little push.

"Talk," he repeated.

 

 

Rodney walked over to the table almost on automatic. The dark tousled head rose and brown eyes, looking shuttered and withdrawn, met his own.

"Uh, hey," Rodney mumbled.

"What do you want, McKay?"

Sheppard rose and carried the tray to the recycling bin. He threw all food inside and Rodney sighed a little. What a waste.

"I… I want to talk," he said softly.

"Not interested."

<I need to talk to you!>

He knew John heard him because there was quite a prominent wince.

<Please! I know I made a mistake, but if you won't listen, I can't explain!>

Sheppard walked on and Rodney growled to himself.

"Stubborn son-of-a-bitch!" he snarled and hurried after the Colonel, who was heading for a transporter.

Rodney started to jog and just about caught up with the man when he entered the alcove. Without thinking Rodney reached past him and touched a remote part of the city.

"What the fuck are you doing, McKay?" Sheppard hissed.

"We talk! Now!"

"Because you say so?"

"Yes, exactly. Because I say so, Colonel Butthead!"

"Oh, very nice of you, McKay. You run out on me and now you're calling me names!"

"I didn't run out on you!"

"Then what would you call it?" Sheppard demanded.

"I… I needed to think."

"Five days? And with walls?!"

Rodney bit his lip. "I'm sorry about the walls."

"Yeah, well, save it! I can live quite comfortably without you in my head."

"Stop deluding yourself! You can't!"

Sheppard's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not dependent on you! This isn't M7B-377 any more! Nor am I that weak to crawl into your bed every night because of that freakish bond!"

"Of course not! You just destroy yourself by starving your body to death until not even a Wraith would touch you!"

Sheppard clenched his hands into fists and started to stalk toward the transporter. Rodney stopped him by blocking his way.

"Listen to me!" he pleaded.

"Why?"

"Because… I need to explain something to you… tell you something…"

"About how you like rough sex?"

He winced and walls flared defensively. "It wasn't by choice! It was you doing that… that mind link manipulation."

"I wanted you to let go, McKay! I wanted to give you pleasure!"

"But I can't let go!" Rodney cried. "That's the whole damn problem! I can't let go because then I lose it! You felt what happened!"

"What?" Sheppard blinked in confusion.

"I hurt you because I lost control!"

"You call a little rough sex losing control?" John clarified.

"It wasn't just rough! I held you down! I raped you, goddamnit!"

"It wasn't rape," John shot back.

"I took you by force."

"Hey, whoa, back up there! You were already having sex with me, then you lost it. You didn't force yourself on me. You just got… a little wild."

Rodney shook his head, hands fluttering angrily. "No! This was… total loss of control! I was overwhelmed. I was swamped. I didn't even know I was doing this to you…!"

Sheppard's frown deepened. "You didn't do anything to me, Rodney. You and I had wild sex. I wanted you to finally let go, so I gave you a little pleasure through the bond, let you feel what I felt with you inside me. I wanted you to know how great it is for me."

"But you can't do that, Colonel!" Rodney exclaimed. "You can't… I can't… It's why I'm the top. I can't lose control. I…" He paced, then stopped an exhaled loudly. "I need to be in control of myself. Not my bed partners. _I_ need to set the pace and call the shots."

Sheppard watched him and Rodney felt his confusion over the reawakening connection. His walls had dropped and he felt his lover with him.

<Rodney?>

"I thought you had read my file," he said tiredly.

"I did."

"But not my medical file."

"Uh, no."

"Maybe you should have."

<Why?>

"Because… John, I'm hypersensitive. Simply put, I feel… twice as much. I lose control if the sensations get too much."

There. It was out, And Rodney felt relieved and tired and full of dread in one.

John stared at him, dumbfound, then repeated, "Hypersensitive?"

"I thought you had read my file!" Rodney accused.

"As I told you: not the medical one."

"It might have helped!" Rodney shot back.

"Yeah, well, so sue me!"

They looked at one another and Rodney sensed the need in Sheppard to understand, as well as the need for closeness.

"Tell me," Sheppard begged.

"Hypersensitivity means I'm excessively sensitive to tactile stimuli or sensations. When I touch something, I feel it about twice as much as you would. As a kid it would make my skin crawl, almost literally. Clothes felt wrong. Too… itchy. It scratched me raw. Then there were certain kinds of food… it drove me nuts. Not that I didn’t like the food, I just couldn’t stand the texture of it. I was reacting to something normal in a way that looked like allergies. I learned to tolerate handshakes and hugs and pats on the back, like I learned to tolerate the sensation of certain food or how the clothes felt."

"You… tolerate hugs?" Sheppard echoed, sounding shocked.

"No! Not like you think. It's…" Rodney sighed. "It's complicated. Hypersensitive people need to adjust their sensory intake to the multitude of sensations they get. I can hug you and it feels really good. You can run your hands over my skin and I won't go through the roof. It's just the more… intimate ways… of, uhm, sex."

<Penetration> John murmured.

<Yes, for example. It's hard enough for me to keep it together when I'm inside you. It's so overwhelming and the link… it adds to things. I can do it, I really enjoy it, but when you projected… I lost it. I never wanted to hurt you, John. Never! Believe me… it's… I just black out… I get lost in the stimulation…>

Sheppard stared at him, then smiled slowly. "Wow…" he murmured. “And here I thought I was that good."

McKay gave a wry chuckle. "Don't think you aren't. It was amazing, but…"

"No buts. It was amazing and you didn't hurt me." Sheppard came closer, tentatively reaching out. "I'm fine. And I still want to touch you."

Rodney drew a shuddering breath. "You can touch me. Just like before."

"I'd like to be able to do more."

"John…"

"I want to try," Sheppard murmured.

"We can talk about this later. And with Carson. He knows."

That got him a frown. "The medical thingy?"

"Uh, yes. And… the rest."

John drew away, eyes flashing. "You told Beckett!"

Rodney sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yes, I told Carson. I had no choice. You were being… I mean… I felt betrayed!" he finally snapped. "You used the link and I lost it and he knows about my medical condition! So, yes, damnit, I needed someone to talk to and I told him! Go and make something out of it!"

Sheppard looked at him, eyes and face unreadable. "He'll have to tell Elizabeth."

"No, he doesn't have to. I asked him to keep this between the two of us. He promised. I trust him."

"It's vital information. Elizabeth has to know."

Blue eyes sparked. "So go and tell her."

"What?"

"You just said it's vital information. You tell her."

Sheppard looked dumbstruck, then he shook his head. "No!"

"Make up your mind, Colonel! First you say she has to know, now she doesn't. What is it?" Rodney demanded.

John slumped back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Everyone will know."

"So? Everyone knows about your stroll into the world of life-sucking insects! Deal with it!" McKay snapped. "You've had a lot worse!"

"You want to add the mind link and us sleeping together, too?" Sheppard shot back.

"Sure, why not? We can sell home videos! What's wrong with you, Colonel? This is about an alien machine turning you into an alien horse! Everything else can stay under wraps. Hell, if Elizabeth agrees we'll keep this among the staff. You, me, Carson, her."

"Caldwell, the SGC, the IOC…"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "There are a lot of bodies buried here and not all have been unearthed by those sticklers for bureaucracy."

Sheppard was silent, still staring at the ceiling.

"John, what bothers you about this?" Rodney asked, voice suddenly softer.

"I… I don't know. It's like an instinct. Don't tell anyone. As if it makes me vulnerable. Being this… equine… having been this equine," he corrected himself, "doesn't change anything about me."

"Can I say mind link?"

That got Rodney a grimace.

"As for the horse thing… you were left with instincts, John. And cravings. I'm not saying sex, but this itch to run."

Sheppard sank down the wall and sighed softly, shaking his head. "I don't want to end up as some kind of lab specimen," he whispered.

"You haven't so far," Rodney simply said. "And a lot of things happened to any number of us. I had Cadman in my brain!"

"Yeah. Still…"

"This is the alien creature in you. It's the horse. You want to protect yourself and its instincts let you act irrationally."

Sheppard glared at him. Rodney just crossed his arms in front of his chest. Finally the Colonel thumped his head against the wall with a dull thud.

"We tell her," he murmured. "If I get deported back to Earth, hell, it's your fault."

"You won't and it isn't. If you go, I go. I doubt this mind link can survive the distance. Looking at how a few days keeping each other out puts stress on us…" Rodney walked over to where Sheppard sat and held out a hand. "Come on."

"Elizabeth?"

He nodded. "Let's get this behind us before either of us freaks. I'm close enough to the abyss of freakdom as it is."

Sheppard got to his feet and pulled his lover into a kiss. "I'll join you there."

"Nuh-uh, no way. My abyss. Get your own."

John chuckled and briefly rested his head against Rodney's. "This'll be hell."

"No, hell was M7B-377. Or being trapped in a Hive ship. Or dealing with super-Wraith. Or blowing up a solar system. This is a piece of cake."

"Comparing it to that… yeah." John stepped back, smiling. "So, let's face the abyss."

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth Weir stared at the military leader of their expedition, as well as their lead scientist. Both men looked perfectly reasonable, not a flicker of insanity in their eyes, and a huge part of Weir reminded her that she should have expected something strange. This was Pegasus. Atlantis. Another galaxy. Too many strange things had happened and Sheppard turning into a huge horse was… actually not really so surprising.

"It was an Ancient machine?" she asked again.

Rodney nodded. "Definitely. And after going through all my collected data, I suspect the malfunction of the Stargate is connected to the machine's brief reactivation. It blocked incoming calls and I'm not sure how often we could have dialed out before the whole Gate gave up on us."

"And you have a telepathic link," Elizabeth stated.

It was the most mind-boggling of all. Not the link. Stranger things had happened. But between whom it had developed.

"Not telepathic. It's like… a transmission of emotions and thoughts that are directed at the other. I can't read the Colonel's mind, for which I'm very glad, and he can't read mine."

"So thankful for it," Sheppard muttered.

It got him an evil look.

"You refrained from including that into your reports why?" Weir wanted to know, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Uh…" Sheppard looked a bit sheepish. "I… I'm not sure. I just…"

"Left-over instinct from his time as an alien horse," Rodney threw in. "He's been displaying all kinds of reflective behavior from those months we spent on this hell hole."

"Like?"

John looked extremely unwell all of a sudden, but Rodney didn't seem to mind or even notice.

"Craving for dry oats and cereals."

Weir did notice the sudden relief in Sheppard's eyes, just before he gave her a smile. Rodney was covering, but she wondered for what. Her eyes narrowed and she fixed her military commander with a stern look.

"It's personal."

"As personal as your transformation?" she asked.

"Yes. Kinda."

"He and Rodney are an item," Carson supplied helpfully.

Both Rodney and John shot him evil looks.

"You are?"

"Yes, yes, we are. Can we get back to keeping this under wraps now?" Rodney hurried on, hands moving quickly. "Just file it under 'freaky things'."

"That's a very big file."

"Including me sharing my brain with Cadman, you meeting your old self, people traveling in time, us dying and still surviving, and so on!" Rodney went on. "It's nothing special!"

"You two share a connection."

"It won't compromise our off world missions," John insisted. "Nor will it influence us here. We've been back for months!"

And she remembered the tension between the two men in the beginning. Whether this had anything to do with their connection Elizabeth didn't know.

"Have you told Teyla and Ronon?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They're on a need-to-know basis, and they don't need to know."

"I differ with that opinion, Colonel. They are on your team."

"And the whole horse transformation thingy is behind us. This won't influence me in any way."

"Uh," Rodney could be heard. "Mind link?" he threw in.

It got him an evil look. "They don't need to know."

"They do if you get shot and I break down screaming!" Rodney snapped. "This isn't just some fun kid stuff! This is an emotional connection and you leak!"

Carson gave them a funny look, but he thankfully refrained from asking medical questions – for now.

"We'll deal with it when it happens."

"Well, hopefully it won't happen at all, but it's your bullet wound and my sanity!"

 

 

Sheppard felt a surge of anger. <Rodney!>

Irate blue eyes met his. <What?! It's the truth! We don't have any way to stop this from happening. I felt your pain when you twisted your foot! I felt the transformation. I felt Ronon beating you up!>

John was startled for a moment, then murmured <Sorry. I didn't realize…>

"I would like to run some tests," Carson finally threw in and John groaned.

Rodney shuddered.

"Listen, Doc…" Sheppard began.

Elizabeth cut him off. "You know it's mandatory. We did it after the Iratus bug almost killed you, or when you changed into one."

"Yes, but this isn't… it's personal!" John protested.

"I will agree to this under the condition that Carson knows about your physical condition, as well as the mental connection," she told them sternly. "This is an asset, for all of us, but it can also be a weakness. We can't go back to M7B-377 and look at the machine that did this, so we have to know all we can about possible drawbacks."

John sighed heavily, protest still in his eyes. "Okay, okay," he ground out.

Elizabeth gave him a calm smile. "Thank you, Colonel Sheppard."

Sheppard just flashed her a look that spoke of his disagreement, but he didn't comment any more.

 

* * *

 

They lay in bed together, John snuggled up to his lover, and he ran one hand gently over Rodney's skin. He kept the link wide open, alert for any kind of sudden spurt of arousal. He didn't want to arouse Rodney. He just wanted to touch him, feel his presence, be reassured. It wasn't the alien creature inside him, that intense instinct to be with his partner. It was just a very human reaction to a harrying few days.

<I'm here> Rodney projected.

<I know. Sorry>

Rodney frowned. <About?>

<Manipulating you> Sheppard answered softly. He was still chewing on that. It wouldn't leave him alone.

<You didn't know>

<Now I do. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that>

<No, you shouldn't, but you did>

John pushed himself up and looked into the relaxed face, smiling. He traced a finger through the faint dusting of hair. Rodney shivered a little.

"This okay?"

"Yes."

"Not too much?"

"John, I learned to tolerate touch at a very young age. It's not like every single touch drives me up the walls. It's more like… the more intense the sensation is, the more violent my reactions are."

<I wouldn't call what we did violent> John purred. <It was fun>

"I took you by force!"

John pushed his lover down as Rodney struggled to sit up. "No. You let go. It was surprising, it left bruises, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't rape, Rodney."

The physicist shuddered a little.

"And I want to… I want you to feel what I do, Rodney. I don't want to be on the receiving end with no way to return what you give me."

"I get my pleasure out of this, too!"

"Yes, but it can be so good. Can't you…" John stopped. "I mean, you learned to tolerate touches, caresses… Could you… learn this?"

Rodney stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "W-what?" he stuttered. "You want to train me?!"

"No! No, Rodney, no," John protested. "I just… want you to feel this…"

"I feel it, John. Too intensely – which is why I lose it!"

"But if we started out small…"

"How small?"

He smiled, projecting some images that made Rodney shiver.

<Stop!> he rasped.

John did, looking sheepish. <Sorry> He didn't sound like it all.

Sheppard went back to caressing Rodney, listening to the soft hum of their mind-link.

He wouldn't let Rodney go, no matter what. The last months had changed him, had made him aware of something he had missed for so long and finally found. His whole training went against these feelings, but it had no chance when it came to instinctive reaction. Rodney meant a lot to him. More than a one night stand. One than a fling. More than just a lover. There was something deeper and the fear of that was receding.

This was it. No matter what. They were in this together and even if John had to give up the Airforce, he knew they would find a place.

 

* * *

 

It had taken Rodney two days of very intense thinking, then he had made up his mind. He had gone to talk to Kate Heightmeyer. Not about alien horses, shape changing or mind links. This was about something else, about something a lot more... normal. Then again, Kate had dealt with him and Cadman, in his body, as well. She was used to weird.

So when he mentioned the mind link between him and John, throughout their third session, she didn't so much as twitch. Her eyes showed interest and Rodney knew this would be confidential, but that was about it.

They talked. Well, he talked. About his condition, what it had meant for him as a child, a teenager, a young man, throughout college, university and later for his whole life. She asked about John, about his feelings for the other man, and he mentioned his thoughts of rape.

Talking helped.

Talking about something that Sheppard had told him he didn't consider a rape. Talking about what had happened, how he had lost control, how he had broken down.

In a way it was relief.

In a way it gave him the distance to look at it all from a new angle and understand why John had been so insistent not to attach 'rape' to something that had started out as consensual sex.

Sheppard himself didn't mention anything about these talks, kept walls up when Rodney asked him to when he was with Kate. John himself had seen Heightmeyer on two occasions and she had suggested for the two of them to come in together, but so far Rodney didn't want that.

They had gone through a lot, had inflicted pain on the other without knowing, and something told Rodney that whatever had started this connection, it was still developing between them.

 

*

 

John looked with something akin to awe at the nude body stretched out on the bed in front of him. After Rodney had told him about his ‘condition’ John had decided he needed some getting used to more intensive tactical sensation. Rodney had grimaced, reminded him of puberty, bitched about being trained like a puppy - and agreed. Even Heightmeyer had agreed that it might be a way to get used to these sensations. Rodney wanted this, he wanted to feel what he had without losing it, and he wanted John to be the one with him.

Which had led to lots of snuggling into each other, stroking and caressing, gentle and slow and experimenting with the link.

It was a learning process and it was as slow as it was pleasurable. John experimented carefully with the link, with touching his lover, and whenever Rodney lost it, he used the connection to bring him back. That wasn't pleasurable exactly since it was effectively a mood killer. But over the weeks it became less and less frequent.

John had found out that he could influence Rodney through it, increasing or decreasing sensations for his lover, sending emotions and pictures and sometimes even real sensation. The latter had been a coincidence, pure and simple, when John had wished for a good-night kiss while being on duty and Rodney had sent him one. The sudden tingling of his lips had made John jump, startling Teyla and Ronon who happened to be with him at the moment.

But they never had tried real intimacy, not after the last time when Rodney had lost it. John could hold his lover in check with the link but he suspected he wouldn’t be able to do that while being a little gone himself. So it would need work, and as such, training.

And that was what they were here for now. Lightly scented oil – thank you, Teyla – candles, the sound of the waves through the partially open windows, all creating a wonderful, relaxing atmosphere.

John bent over his lover’s back, sliding their bodies together and felt Rodney shudder minutely under him.

“Remember, Rodney, everything for you. If it’s too much, just say the word, but I wouldn’t mind if you don’t.”

“Are you being deliberately cruel, Colonel?” Rodney muttered into the pillow, suppressing another small tremble.

“Of course, doctor. I fully intend to torment you into screaming tonight – preferably my name, but ‘oh god yes’ or ‘please’ will do for the moment.”

And whatever Rodney would have wanted to answer it was turned into a low moan when John nibbled at his neck.

John grinned, noticing how Rodney slightly arched into him, and he felt the link between them hum. Retreating a bit he took the vial with the warm oil, pouring some on his hands.

“Ready?”

“Hm.”

He started at Rodney’s shoulders, gliding over his upper arms, opening the link wide to be able to read every change in his lover’s mood. Rodney purred, stretching like a large lazy cat, following his every move, up and down his body, the sides, backside, legs. When he started the second round, Rodney’s breath had become a little more ragged, and he had become tense.

“Too much?” John asked softly. It was a learning process for him, too, for he had to learn how to read Rodney, what to do when to make it good for the both of them.

“Not yet,” Rodney sighed, and John continued, stroking the form backside again. Following an impulse, he dipped a slick finger between Rodney’s legs and was rewarded with a low moan. Monitoring his reaction closely John pulled back his finger slowly, letting it slide between the firm buttocks, brushing over Rodney’s most sensitive areas. Rodney’s breath hitched and he groaned deeply, spreading his legs further.

<More?>

<oh yes …>

<Inside?>

There was no verbal answer as Rodney pushed against him – and who was he to deny his lover anything? Slicking his finger up again he carefully placed it against Rodney, leaning over his lover to make him feel his entire body glide against him, before he cautiously pushed.

Rodney mewled, pushing back, before he rolled onto his side and lifted a leg, begging for more wordlessly. John slid his arm around his lover, holding him, while he massaged carefully, listening intently to every moan and whimper Rodney gave. The link thrummed with Rodney’s arousal – and his own – but he tried not to send it back. Rodney was panting and trembling, eyes closed and John could tell he was concentrating. And then he cried out, clenching the sheets.

< … John, stop …>

It wasn’t much more than a mental whimper but he immediately stopped every movement, giving Rodney time to get back to his senses.

<Stretch me>

<What?>

<I want you to stretch me, John. Want you in me>

John swallowed, becoming very still.

<I know. It’s not that I haven’t done that before. It’s just that I lost it. I trust you>

Oh god …

<Are you sure?>

<Hey, genius here. I’m always sure>

John couldn’t suppress the chuckle at that typical McKay answer.

He reached for the oil.

 

 

In the end Rodney did scream his name.


	2. Chimera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something came out of nowhere and crashed a hundred miles from the Athosian settlement. As it turns out, it's an alien ship. But somehow the seven men aboard aren't as alien as Sheppard thought. Actually, they can teach him and Rodney a thing or two about bonds, shape-shifting and life-partnerships.

II. Chimera

 

 _*flashbacks are scenes from Sui Generis, the M7 Borderlines story*_

 

The urgent beeping sound of the console rattled Sergeant Tim Sands awake in almost no time. Living in an alien city in an alien galaxy with lots of friendly and definitely not so friendly aliens around, would have everybody jumpy and alert.

“What is it, Sergeant?”

“Sensors picked up an alien ship approaching the planet, Ma’am,” he answered Dr. Weir’s question, fingers already dancing over the buttons to get a clearer signal.

“Wraith?”

The one question that concerned everybody.

“No, Ma’am. And it’s not on long range sensors. It appeared out of nowhere, and it’s headed toward the planet.”

Someone else appeared at Sands' side, alerted by the alarm signal.  Slender, dark-haired, hazel eyes alert, Colonel John Sheppard was someone Sands had a whole lot of respect for. He had never spoken to him directly, though he was, in a way, under Sheppard's command. The man was the military commander of Atlantis and Sands was military. Since the sergeant was mostly in the Gateroom at the controls and rarely ventured outside the city, on missions for example, he and his superior officer only communicated via Sheppard's subordinate officers. Like Sergeant Bates or Major Lorne. Bates was Atlantis City security, Lorne was second-in-command when it came to off-world missions. Sands wasn't keen on running around on alien planets. The excitement in the City was enough already.

Close on Sheppard's heels followed their lead scientist Dr. Rodney McKay. Sands swallowed his sudden anxiety and concentrated back on his readings. He hadn't been on this post for very long and he hated to become the focus of one certain scientist’s attention – or his sharp tongue.

"The ship has entered the atmosphere, still descending rapidly. It's not coming this way," Sands reported.

“No?” Weir asked.

Three people were now more or less breathing down his neck, though McKay had taken over the empty station next to Sands, his face a mask of concentration as he keyed in commands.

“No. It’s crashing," Sheppard replied instead of the sergeant. "Angle's too steep and this is not a controlled descent, even if we give it the benefit of a doubt. They're out of control. Sergeant? Can you identify it?”

 “Still trying to. The energy rea… whoa!”

“What do you mean: whoa?” McKay cut in sharply. “You just have to calibrate the… Whoa!”

“Rodney…?” Sheppard asked slowly.

“This is… well, it’s unlike any ship we’ve seen before, but if I interpret these readings correctly, and we all know I do, there’s a Stargate onboard that vessel.”

Sheppard’s eyebrows shot up. “Goa’uld?”

“Haven’t you been listening?" McKay snapped, irritation in his voice. "Unlike any ship we’ve seen before? Including Goa’uld, Wraith or Asgard. It’s… oh, partly it resembles the Aurora.”

“Ancient?”

“Partly, Colonel. But whatever it is, it’s crashing, and it will be down in about ten minutes. On the mainland, thankfully.”

Sheppard nodded sharply. He exchanged a look with Weir, got a silent nod, and he turned to McKay.

“Let’s go.”

Sands felt some of the tension leaving him as both men left the room until he gazed back at the screen, and at Dr. Weir, who was standing beside him, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't look relieved or tense. She looked… guarded.

Guarded wasn't good, so much he had already determined. And not good for her wasn't better for any of them either.

Sands prepared for a long shift.

 

* * *

 

Sheppard was at the controls of Puddlejumper One, his favorite of them all, and Rodney sat in the co-pilot's seat, still going over the readings. The launch was smooth, not even a jostle.

"She's crashed about twenty miles from the shore," Rodney reported as they flew away from Atlantis. "A good one hundred miles from the Athosian settlement."

Sheppard nodded. "Good."

Teyla looked relieved as well. Rodney could emphasize. The last thing anyone needed was to worry about the Athosians and visitors who weren't friendly. With their recent quota, unfriendly was a rather good guess. They had had a stretch of bad luck in that regard, but maybe, just maybe, and Rodney prayed for it – secretly – this was just a bunch of unlucky, friendly people who had Ancient technology and wanted to share.

“The crash site is just behind that hill. Energy readings are strong, no radiation according to the sensors. I advice proceeding with great caution.”

Sheppard smiled wryly. “So do I, Rodney. Lifesigns?”

“Yes. Seven.”

“I’ll take down the jumper. We’ll walk to the crash site. Teyla, Ronon, look out for everything. Walters, Malloy, you know the drill. We don’t know who or what is waiting there for us. Rodney…”

“…will take extra care and not let his eyes stray off the readings, yes, Colonel.”

<Good boy>

<Don't treat me like a child!>

John gave him a brief hug, easing the tension in Rodney's frame, without even laying a finger on him. Their ever-developing mind-link was very useful for that. Rodney didn't say a thing, but he sent a wave of gratitude, intermixed with an apology.

Sheppard cloaked the Jumper as they drew closer, then let it descend smoothly. The Marines in the back were already checking their weapons, as was Ronon. Teyla was her unflappable self, though her face showed a small amount of the tension she probably felt. The Puddlejumper touched down and opened its rear hatch.

"No lifesigns close by," Rodney reported. "I'm getting two about a mile south of our position, stationary."

"Okay, people, head out. Extreme caution. Ronon, set that weapon on stun. If we run into friendlies I don't want to kill them on first sight," Sheppard told the Satedan.

Ronon didn't twitch a muscle as he snapped the controls of his gun the other way, on stun.

Then they left, Rodney in the middle, Sheppard up front with Teyla, Ronon in the back, and the two Marines on the side.

 

* * *

 

<Visitors>

<That was to be expected. They’re approaching fast>

<We’ll have to face them. Who'll be the innocent bystander this time, you or me?>

<Depends on whether we have to shoot for our lives or can negotiate first>

<So not funny>

<So it’s you>

<Thank you so much, Commander>

 

* * *

 

The moment John walked onto the clearing and saw the large four-legged animal, his heart skipped a beat.

<Rodney?!>

McKay stopped next to him, eyes wide, just as stunned. <I see it. It’s … well, an alien horse>

<And it has two horns, Rodney! Like…>

Sheppard sounded rattled and something flickered through him, a memory of something he had tried to deal with for so long. He had dealt with it. He knew he could live with what he was, but he had never thought…

Especially here. After an alien ship had crashed on their world.

<Like you> Rodney only said calmly. <It's about your size, but still huge for a horse and it has two horns>

The others had stopped as well, wary of the creature, but all waited for John to act.

<Yeah, well, like me. Question it: what is it doing here? Did it come with the ship? And…>

<.. is it human, too?>

The alien horse with the two long horns growing out of its forehead flicked its tail and watched them with pricked ears while chewing grass. It had a light brown coat with reddish highlights, and the mane and tail were a dark brown, almost black. The eyes were green, a rather unusual color for an animal that wasn't a cat, Rodney thought.

The alien horse snorted after a while and returned its attention toward the ground, taking another few bites.

Sheppard shifted his stance a little as he lowered the P90, cradling it in his arms. <What do you wanna bet it's human?>

<John?>

<Watch the bushes. I don’t think we’re alone>

"Colonel?" Teyla asked softly.

"No one moves. Let me handle this," Sheppard only replied, never taking his eyes off the two-horned, alien horse.

"It is not native to this world," Teyla supplied. "My people never reported seeing any animal like this."

"It's not," Rodney agreed. "We… saw something similar on M7B-377."

That got him curious looks, but he waved it off. Now was not the time for it.

John carefully approached the large equine and the animal snorted again, nostrils flaring. It looked alert, but not aggressive.

“What is he doing?” Teyla asked quietly.

"Making first contact," Rodney answered just as quietly.

Ronon simply watched.

“My name is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. This is my team. We noticed your crash. Is there anything we can help you with?”

“He’s talking to a _horse_?” one of the Marines asked, surprised.

“In fact he is talking to a Kiowata.”

Ronon whirled around, weapon trained on the man who had appeared behind them, and the other one raised his hands. Rodney glanced at the newcomer. Tall, slender, fair-haired, wearing a black uniform with something that resembled rank insignia.

Oh good, military.

Not.

The latest events with quasi-military organization, namely the Genii, were still only too vivid in Rodney’s mind to be pleasant. The uniform didn't look like Genii, though. Nor like any other uniform design they had accidentally or not so accidentally run into.

Wary hazel eyes regarded them when the man stepped closer, careful as not to make any sudden moves. Yes, he knew his way around and he was human. At least he appeared to be.

"Who are you?" Sheppard demanded, P90 raised like the others, half an eye on the Kiowata.

“Chris Larabee, commanding officer of the Agency ship Chimera. This is my Kiowata. He’s harmless.”

The equine snorted, and Larabee cast a brief glance into its direction.

“And yes, he understands you, Colonel. I’d be grateful if we could stay for a while, try to tend to our ship.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and my crew.”

“How many?”

“Seven.”

At least he seemed to tell the truth, Rodney mused.

Larabee allowed one of the Marines to frisk him for weapons and didn’t even blink when the soldier came up with a gun and two knives.

“Well-armed, commander,” John remarked dryly.

“Crashed on an alien planet, you’d do the same.”

Sheppard inclined his head, agreeing. He had lowered his weapon, but Ronon and the Marines still kept the man in their sights. Larabee didn't seem to be offended.

The Kiowata walked slowly over to the blond, snorting softly, and he reached out to gently pat one massive shoulder. Despite being smaller than Sheppard in his other form, the alien horse was huge.

"You were scouting?" Sheppard asked.

"In a way. We detected a settlement just before even our last sensor gave out and we fell down blind. My pilot and my engineer are certain they can get the Chimera flying again, but we need time to repair the damage. All I ask is for that time, then we leave again."

"You didn't appear on our long-range sensors," Rodney threw in.

"We were ripped out of Transspace."

"Transspace?"

"It's how we travel from point A to point B when both points are very far apart. JD could probably explain it better to you, but we enter a Jump Point, exit, and if we have to, use the next one."

<Gates!> Rodney exclaimed. <They open Gates!>

"Something interfered in our last jump," Larabee went on. "We had heavy disturbances, then the Transdrive went dead, we were thrown out of the Jump and hurtled toward this planet. I'm not even sure where we are any more," he added, smiling darkly.

"It's called the Pegasus Galaxy," Sheppard only said.

They were by now walking toward where the crash site was.

Larabee frowned. "Actually, I never heard of it. If we get the Chimera's main computer up and running again, and manage to get a lock on our position, we might just find out where this got us."

"What's this Agency?" Ronon rumbled suspiciously.

"You asking that gives me the bad feeling we ended up very far from home," the dark-clad man murmured.

The Kiowata shot them a look, ears flicking.

"The Agency is law enforcement. We come in when local law enforcement meets a dead end or requests our assistance, or when a crime spans more than one jurisdictionary territory. My team and I work for the Criminal Investigative Division, which currently has seven Sections. Ours is Section 7, Smuggling and Piracy. We were on our way back from a case when this happened."

It was then that they crested the hill and looked down at the crash site.

Rodney didn’t know where to look first – the ship or his readings. The ship wasn’t as sleek as a Wraith ship or as bulky as the Daedalus, but it was large. Large enough to contain a Stargate, for example. It didn't have the Wraith's organic structure either. The ship was metal, but the blue color and the shading gave it the appearance of some stranded underwater creature. Some constructs clearly indicated weaponry, others spoke of a drive with a great power. This ship had seen a lot, and Rodney itched to take a look at its insides. Something about the design certainly rang a bell. And there were still those energy readings...

The area where it had crashed down was marked by a long groove where the Chimera had slid and hurtled over the ground. There were broken trees and unearthed bushes and rocks, but no signs of a fire.

Larabee gave the Kiowata a clap on the rump and it entered the ship via a lowered ramp, while a man in a similar uniform came down. He was smaller than the Commander, with a square jaw and bright blue eyes. The light brown hair was cut short, the face clean shaven. There was an easy-going gait to him.

"Vin Tanner," Larabee introduced him. "My second in command. Vin, this is Colonel John Sheppard and his team."

"Nice to meet you," Tanner replied pleasantly.

"How's it looking?"

"JD and Josiah are hip deep in engine parts and computer data. I'm not getting more than 'it'll take time' out of them. Nathan patched up Buck. He's as good as new. Just a bump."

Rodney was by now really, really itching to get aboard.

<John?> he pleaded.

<Hold on, Rodney. We have no idea just what we're facing>

<Crashed visitors. Please!?>

"How can we help?" Sheppard asked out loud.

"Depends on how close your technology resembles ours," was Tanner's reply.

"From these readings, it's close. Very close. At least as close as two worlds that never interacted can get. It must be a derivation of Ancient technology," Rodney started, excitement in his voice.

"Uh, Ancient?"

"You don't know the Ancients? Maybe Alterans? Lanteans?"

"No, no, and definitely no."

Rodney deflated momentarily. "Oh. Well. Yes. But the design of the ship and the readings… they do look close to Ancient design."

"And you… work with this… Ancient design?" Tanner wanted to know.

"Of course!"

<Rodney, shut up, okay?>

Sheppard nodded at the ship. "We might be able to help, yes. First of all we need to clear all of this with my people."

"You live in the settlement we detected?" Larabee asked, sounding doubtful.

"No. There is a city farther out… in the ocean." Sheppard scanned the ship again, then looked at the two men. "I'll contact them, talk to them, then we'll see what we can do."

"Sounds fair enough."

A third man descended from the ramp, again in a black uniform, smaller than Larabee, and with vivid green eyes.

"Gentlemen," the newcomer greeted them, nodding. "Ezra Standish, part of the Chimera crew like the rest of them." There was light amusement in the voice and the smile was pleasant.

Rodney stared at him, then took note of the close position he had to Larabee, and something inside him fired rapidly.

<It's him! The horse… well, Kiowata. It's him>

<What?>

<The Kiowata had green eyes, too, John! He changed shape! It's him!>

<Hold your horses, Rodney, one thing at a time. We don't know a thing about them, let alone whether or not that man is a… Kiowata. Elizabeth first, the rest later>

McKay deflated a little, but he didn't argue. Through the mind-link Sheppard felt him bouncing on his feet, though the man was perfectly still. Describing Rodney as 'hyper' right now was an understatement. All John felt was caution and a healthy dose of wariness.

Sheppard retreated back to the 'Jumper and called Atlantis, detailing what they had found.

"You want to bring them here?" Elizabeth asked.

"At least the man in charge and maybe one of his team. I'll drag Rodney back, too, and leave Walters and Malloy to keep an eye on them. Ronon, too. There's seven of them and with two or three gone…"

"I understand. Agreed, Colonel," Weir told him. "Proceed with caution. I'm looking forward to meeting Commander Larabee."

 

* * *

 

Rodney had been unable to keep himself from scanning what he could, moving restlessly. He did a few scans of Standish and Larabee, who were watching him with mild amusement, and he was trying to wheedle information out of them with tech-talk questions, which they fielded quite professionally. Walters and Malloy were on their posts, keeping a very close eye on matters, as was Ronon. The Satedan looked downright trigger-happy. Teyla was talking to Vin Tanner, smiling, inclining her head now and then.

When Sheppard came back, Larabee's attention was immediately on him.

"Dr. Weir agreed to meet with you, see how we can help," Sheppard told them. "We'll leave some of my people here to help you while we fly whoever you want to accompany you back to Atlantis."

There was a brief exchange of looks between Tanner and Larabee. Tanner nodded. "I'll stay here, make a list of what's broken. I guess it might be a much shorter list to tell what's actually still working." He grimaced a little.

"Ezra and I will accompany you," the Agent commander replied. "I'm thankful for whatever help you can give – and tell us where exactly we are in relation to where we came from."

"We need the coordinates for that," McKay answered absent-mindedly, eyes on his screen.

"Ronon, you, Malloy and Walters stay here. Teyla, with me. If there's any trouble whatsoever, call."

Ronon nodded briskly. John knew he could rely on the warrior and his own people were well-trained. He didn't feel any hostility from Larabee and his men, but after so many quasi-friendly encounters that had ended as a run for one's life, the Colonel tended to be careful.

 

* * *

 

The Puddlejumper landed gracefully and Sheppard shut down the systems.

"Okay, everyone, welcome to Atlantis."

Larabee  had watched the approach with interest, silent, alert, but Sheppard sensed no threat from the man. In a way, he felt comfortable around him. He was a team leader, he had people to protect, but he wasn't the aggressive kind, though probably could be very deadly. Sheppard himself knew what he was capable of, either with a gun or a knife, or even bare-handed. He didn't doubt the other was any less lethal.

Standish was already following Rodney out of the jumper's rear hatch. Larabee and John followed. The moment Standish set foot onto Atlantis, a veritable thrum seemed to go through the City. John winced as he felt it ripple through him, like a deep bass boom that reverberated through his bones and right into his soul. Something stirred inside him, briefly, profoundly, and very strongly.

 

 

"Sands!"

"I don't know, Ma'am. Atlantis… all systems went up all of a sudden. It was like a power surge and it's now quieting down again."

Elizabeth stared down at the newcomers, took in the two men in the black uniforms, saw John's confused and slightly shocked expression.

"We are getting smaller surges," Zelenka piped up, quickly keying in commands. "From every area, whether we had power there before or not. The whole city is… it is like huge reboot!"

 

 

Ezra stared at the large room they had just entered and when the reverberations passed through him, he shivered. It wasn't… bad. It was actually like a caress, like from an alien mind, and the latent empath briefly reached out as if to check on what had touched him. Chris's presence wrapped around him like a shield, keeping him safe, drawing him back.

<Ezra!>

He blinked, dazed. <Chris… this is… I never felt anything like it before. Never!>

"What just happened?" Rodney demanded, striding past them. "What's going on?" he yelled toward what looked like a command center on a level above the giant room that housed a huge, round, ornamented something.

Neither Chris nor Ezra had ever seen anything like it before. Ezra walked closer, like in a trance, still feeling like he had… come home. It was warm and friendly, enveloping him like a child, and there was no danger here.

<Ezra!>

<Chris, I… I can't describe it… It's not bad. It's… wow…>

"I don't know what happened, Rodney," one of the men on the second level called back. "Atlantis surged up. There was massive power boost, then it quieted down again, but there are suddenly programs running all over the place. The mainframe is lit up like Christmas tree and there's so much data scrolling past, it's like super speedway!"

McKay was running up the steps, the lit-up and strangely ornamented steps, and pushing toward what looked like a control console. Chris kept close to Ezra and glanced at Sheppard, who had the same dazed look on his features. The dark-haired Colonel shook his head, like trying to dislodge something, and he gripped his gun more tightly.

"Colonel?" Teyla asked, sounding worried.

"I… Wow… That was… intense."

"What is it?"

"Atlantis. I mean… there was always this background hum… but now?"

"Hum?" she inquired.

He blinked again, looked at her, and Larabee had the distinct impression he had just said something he hadn't wanted to spill.

"Nothing," he muttered.

Teyla just gave him this long, hard look, then accepted his ‘nothing’ with a slight incline of her head. Sheppard walked past her, a determined expression on his features.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth regarded the two visitors with curiosity. The past experience with so many new cultures, some aggressive, some peaceful, hadn't spoiled her for meeting new people. She was cautious, like every time, but Atlantis' reaction to Ezra Standish had her intrigued. And from the slightly startled looks of the two men, they had been surprised as well.

"I've to say this looks a bit like home," Larabee said calmly. "At least when you go to the more traditionally built stations or cities. Four Corners, where we are stationed, is more modern."

"Atlantis is old," Weir told them. "It was sunk ten thousand years before we came here, and back then it had been around for a while."

Standish let his eyes roam around the conference room. "The whole city is like this?"

"As far as we have explored it. Parts are destroyed, either from the sinking or later on because of various incidents."

Larabee nodded. "Colonel Sheppard told us you would be able to assist us in the repairs of our ship?"

"As much as we are able to."

Elizabeth gestured at the chairs and the men sat down. Rodney took his usual place and Sheppard sat down beside him. McKay looked excited, John simply watchful.

"We didn't pick you up on our sensors before you crashed."

"As I explained to Colonel Sheppard, we were on our way back from a case. The Chimera was in Transspace when there was a violent disturbance. We were flung out of Transspace and this planet was right in front of us. My pilot just about managed to get a bearing on the only continent we could distinguish, then were almost down. We're still running checks, but it looks bad."

Weir nodded. "You're welcome here on Atlantis. Usually we get visitors through the Stargate, but we will do whatever we can to help you."

"Thank you."

"Rodney?"

"I need to get a look at the ship's computer first." Rodney gave Sheppard a pointed look. "Which I would have been able to do if I hadn't been dragged off."

John smiled wryly. Elizabeth suspected there was a friendly argument going on through the mind-link.

"We should also check out Mr. Standish. Atlantis reacted to something about his person," Rodney added.

Elizabeth met the green gaze, saw the curiosity and slight caution there. "Mr. Standish?"

"What kind of check?"

"A medical one. It would also assure you that you weren't hurt in the crash."

That got her a small smile. "Believe me, Dr. Weir, I wasn't hurt. I can tell. But if you felt better knowing that I'm not contagious…"

Elizabeth gave him a calm look. "It's not that. We know that for a fact because Atlantis reacts to pathogens in the air. We would have had an alarm."

"Good to know."

"And it would make all of us feel better to know what about you gave the City such a start."

Ezra shrugged. "As long as it doesn't involve needles…"

Rodney grimaced. "With Carson, you never know. The man has an affinity for poking innocent people with sharp objects."

"We're not talking about your stubborn self, Rodney," Sheppard remarked.

"I knew Beckett made it personal."

"I hope we can help you," Elizabeth interrupted the mutterings.

"I hope so, too." Larabee's face was serious. "We'd like to be able to get home."

 

* * *

 

The initial meeting with Elizabeth had been followed by a voluntary examination through Dr. Beckett. While there were no visible injuries, the reaction of Atlantis to their visitors had been too pronounced not to check them out.

"You want to tell me he has the gene?" Rodney exclaimed. "How?"

Carson gave him a mild frown. "How do you get a gene, Rodney?"

"But, but…"

"The Ancients seeded galaxies," the doctor went on. "They came as far as their home, too."

"But they have no Stargates!"

Ezra sat on the exam table, confused. "What about my genes and what are Stargates?"

"See!" McKay exclaimed, voice rising "He has no clue! They have space travel and they use wormhole technology, but they have no Gates!"

Sheppard leaned against the wall, watching it all with a frown. His eyes met Rodney and McKay sighed deeply.

"Okay, so all Gates are buried. Why not? Happened on Earth. Why not in another galaxy on every inhabited planet they ever visited!" Sarcasm dripped heavily from his voice.

"This Gate… it's that huge circular structure in the main room?" Larabee hazarded a guess.

"Aye," Carson confirmed.

"Never saw one before. And what is this about a gene Ezra has?"

"The Ancient gene," Carson supplied.

Rodney gestured at everything, mainly to indicate the city. "This city was built by a race we call the Ancients. They spread out all over the galaxies millions of years ago, seeded inhabitable planets with life, and so on. Long story. I'll get you the file. Anyway, their technology is based on only them being able to handle it. It's initiated by the technology recognizing the gene structure of the individual, responding only to those with the Ancient gene. Since the Ancients also came to our world, thousand of years ago, they, well," more hand moving, "interbred with our ancestors, so to speak. The result was that some people have this gene and work the technology in this city."

"We believe its caused by a single gene that is always turned on in Ancients, instructing various cells in the body to produce a series of proteins and enzymes that interact with the skin, nervous system and brain," Beckett added.

"And… I have it?" Ezra asked, looking a bit shocked.

"Aye. You have it. Even more pronounced and strongly than Colonel Sheppard, while Commander Larabee's genetic structure appears to have been altered. It's like someone used the gene therapy on him."

Ezra had paled even more and looked rather sick.

"Are you okay?" Carson asked worriedly.

"Chris… he looks altered to you?" Standish queried, sounding strangled.

"Ezra…" Larabee started.

"Yes, he does. I developed a method to introduce the Ancient gene to the human body. It's a process in which a human without the gene can receive a retrovirus which allows them to use Ancient technology. In some it works, in others it doesn't."

"What's wrong?" Sheppard asked.

Standish swallowed. "We might not know anything about your Ancients, but…"

"Ez…"

Standish reached out and to McKay's surprised squeezed Larabee's wrist gently. The green eyes were burning when he looked at Sheppard.

"You knew about the Kiowata."

"The horse?"

"We call it a Kiowata. It's a life-form indigenous to a planet called Prima 2. A group of smugglers discovered a machine that could change a human being into one of those Kiowata, erasing their memory until the human was either strong enough to come back or they were changed back."

Sheppard's face turned into a mask. Beckett just gaped.

"When you approached me," Ezra went on, "I knew you had recognized me as a sentient being, able to understand you. But you know nothing about Kiowata. You have the same gene Dr. Beckett says I have. And I'm willing to gamble you know the machine."

Sheppard was pale now, rigid, and McKay moved closer. There was a sharp look that was met by an annoyed one from Rodney.

 

 

<There is a connection between them, Chris> Ezra whispered.

Larabee looked at his partner and lover, twitching an eyebrow. <You sure?>

<I can feel… something. I'd say it's what our communication, our bond, would feel like. They're close and it's not just a normal relationship>

Chris smiled. <Like us?>

<He knew Kiowata, Chris> Ezra insisted. <Even if we argue that they are aware of the many shapes alien life can take, why did he talk to me? And did you see McKay watch me? They suspected and I think they put two and two together>

<How would they know about Kiowata?>

<We can find out>

<How?>

Ezra sent a shrug. <Ask?>

<Whether or not either of them can shape-change?> Chris wanted to know.

<Maybe>

 

 

"Rodney, this machine…" Beckett started.

"It's impossible!" McKay snapped. "This isn't a mirror universe, nor an alternate one. It's a million to one shot that a machine like this exists anywhere else and can be used to.. change humans!"

"So I take it yours is broken?" Standish asked calmly.

It got him a glare.

"You said something before," Beckett interjected before McKay could say something scathing. "You are aware of something different about you, aren't you?"

"In my world, people with my 'condition' are called Borderlines, Dr. Beckett," was the calm reply, though from the paleness Standish was anything but calm. "And because of it, I survived this transformation that was forced upon me and managed to revert back on my own. It's how I met, Chris, how we bonded."

Now the eyes were on John and Rodney.

"Like you two bonded."

"What? What are you talking about?" Rodney immediately shot back.

"Dr. McKay, I can see there is something between you. We call it a bond. It's a connection of minds and souls. You have it. Because Colonel Sheppard was a Kiowata once, and you were there, and probably on your own for a while. You learned to trust and to rely on each other."

Sheppard clenched his hands into fists, lips a thin line.

Beckett was wide-eyed and rather glad they were alone right now. Security was out front.

“H-how… do you know that?” Rodney stuttered. “You can’t possibly know that!”

Standish smiled sadly. “Chris and I, we’ve been there.”

The green eyes were almost too calm, reflecting an old pain, and the same was mirrored in Larabee’s eyes. Both men exchanged a look, and then Ezra started to tell them what had happened on a planet that had thrived from smuggling Kiowata, turning humans into these proud beings and either killing them or mutilating them for life.

 

*

 

John felt sick in the stomach by the time Larabee and Standish were done telling them what had happened to him, and to Ezra, on a very remote planet. It sounded partly like what Sheppard had gone through, but without nearly starving, colics, freezing winters, and people after you because your horns were valuable and because clipping them off tamed the animal and erased the human personality. Just thinking about anyone doing that to him…

The shudder was more pronounced and he suddenly found himself wrapped in the firm presence of a decidedly freaked out but still so very tightly controlled Rodney McKay.

<Shhh…>

<I…> He swallowed and steeled himself, pushing his emotions back down. He faced the very understanding eyes of Standish.

"We survived," the Agent said calmly. "Both Chris and I went through a lot and we started and completed this bond on BP-379. You still have to do that."

"There's nothing more to complete," John said hoarsely, the sick feeling spreading.

"There is. This is slowly growing and it will take on new shape and form every day you work with it," Larabee added.

"A newly connected pair needs the presence of the other," Ezra explained. "What you experienced, it's a clear indication. You were together for three months, then you forced the separation, and the Kiowata wasn't happy."

"It's not a separate entity!" John argued.

"No," Standish agreed. "It's part of you. So, effectively, you weren't happy. It was a new part of you that drove you to seek out Rodney, even if you fought it."

Rodney glanced at his lover. Sheppard radiated unhappiness about their rather strained past.

<We survived, John> he murmured softly.

<We nearly didn't>

<Yeah, well, I told you so. Genius here. You were the stubborn ass who insisted he was fine>

<I _was_ fine! >

That got him an incredulous look and Sheppard sighed.

<Okay, not so very much>

<Better>

Ezra just smiled, aware of the silent communication, though not of what was spoken.

"The link you have in your mind is like a first step to something that we call a soul bond. Where we come from it's something that's only possible between a Borderline and someone who is either receptive to it or Borderline as well."

"Why do you call descendents of the Ancients Borderlines?" John asked curiously.

"Because we don't know about Ancients or Lanteans or Alterans, Colonel. We don't have this history you have. We don't have myths and believes. Borderlines are people born with what you call the Ancient gene. To us…" Ezra sighed. "Well, in the world I grew up I was bottom rung. Lower than that, even. I had a genetic defect, so I wasn't human. I was close to human – and that is called a Borderline. It can express itself in so many ways. I'm a latent empath and I heal quicker than most people. Now I can shape-change into a Kiowata, too. Borderlines have fought hard to get accepted in a world that shuns them."

Rodney shook his head. "But the gene… it's a heritage that's… it's fantastic! An alien race that seeded worlds, that traveled galaxies, that built the Gates!"

"None of that is of any consequence to us," Chris told him. "What you call Stargates… we don't have that technology."

"A completely different development," Rodney murmured, fascinated. "And still your ship uses something like Stargates. It's a Gate itself. You use these Jump Points. You use wormholes."

Larabee nodded.

"These Kiowata," Beckett spoke up. "This is connected to the gene as well?"

"Partly," Ezra agreed. "Colonel Sheppard  and I are Borderline, or gene carriers, whatever you prefer. Sadly, where we come from, the machine has been modified to change all humans, Borderline or not, into Kiowata. The difference is that Borderlines retain the ability of shape-changing. Humans don't. Your machine triggered the Kiowata in Colonel Sheppard – we still haven't understood why this particular creature – and it is his ability from now on. You're no different than before, not a mutation in any way."

"But I'm a horse!"

"Kiowata," Rodney corrected.

"And you two share a mind-link. The soul bond is already developing."

Beckett shook his head, overwhelmed like all of them.

"Don't even think it, doc!" Sheppard warned.

Ezra smiled a little. "Our own team medic, Dr. Nathan Jackson, has an extensive file on Kiowata physiology and the soul bond. I think he'd be very willing to share his findings. You'll need to know about it because the deeper this becomes, the more you need to consider it with your treatment."

"I'm not going to change into this Kiowata, too, right?" Rodney demanded, eyes wide with fear.

"No," Ezra calmed him. "Only the machine can trigger the transformation. You never underwent it, so you're unable to become Kiowata form."

John was feeling more nauseous than before and Rodney reached out for him, giving him something to hold on to.

"This is amazing," McKay murmured. "The Ancients seeded your galaxy, but they didn't leave a Stargate, only technology that's like one. I wonder why?"

"I'm willing to share information on our world," Larabee spoke up. "The Chimera carries some of our science and history data. JD is a fountain of knowledge on Transwarp technology. Josiah can probably answer your questions, too."

Rodney's eyes gleamed. John was silent, still chewing what had been revealed.

"Elizabeth would want to know some of what we heard here," Beckett said quietly. "Especially the technology."

"Don't mention the soul bond, okay?" Sheppard requested. "She knows about what happened to Rodney and me, even the mind-link, but we'd like to break it to her… in little pieces."

"I understand." Larabee nodded.

 

* * *

 

For the next hours, Larabee and Standish were in a meeting with Elizabeth. While Rodney found all of it interesting, he had been itching to get back to the Chimera. When they were finally done, Rodney with a ton of data and a million questions only the ship could answer, it was late afternoon already.

"You're welcome to spend the night," Elizabeth offered.

"I hope you understand that in the current situation, being with my ship and crew is more important, Dr. Weir," Larabee replied.

She nodded.

So finally McKay had flown to the crash site, a team of engineers with him, led by Radek Zelenka. Sheppard was their pilot. He had insisted to come along and there was no stopping a determined Colonel. Larabee would talk to his crew, tell them what had been discussed with Elizabeth, and he would handle introductions to the Atlantis engineers.

They landed next to the much larger ship and were greeted by Tanner and a taller, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a ready smile. Buck Wilmington, as he was introduced, accompanied the engineers into the Chimera, followed by Rodney and Sheppard.

 

 

Two hours later, with everyone introduced to the seven crew members, a quick briefing on matters, and the promise to be as non-invasive concerning the damaged systems as was humanly possible, Zelenka and the engineers were checking on structural damage and engine troubles. Rodney had taken over the bridge. Sheppard was with him, the pilot in him just as excited as the scientist was in Rodney.

"This is amazing!" McKay exclaimed. "It's Ancient technology!"

"Hey, it's not old!" JD Dunne, the Chimera's pilot, protested.

Dunne looked young, barely in his mid-twenties in Rodney’s eyes, with longish, dark brown strands, vivid dark eyes, and what looked like a beard shadow. Like all Agency members he was dressed in a black uniform, though he had pushed up his sleeves.

The Chimera's a Delta model and everything is up to date!" he added with an indignant look.

Rodney blinked and faced the outraged man. "What? No, I mean the base of the technology."

"It's not old."

"Not old. Ancient. The race. The Ancients."

"Rodney, he has no idea what you're talking about," Sheppard supplied. "Now before you confuse him more, let's just check out what help's needed."

Rodney had his nose on his read-out screen again, murmuring to himself. He suddenly turned to the dark-haired man. "You're what again? The engineer?"

"No, I'm the pilot. Josiah's in the engine room. He's trying to get us emergency power back. I'm working on the mainframe."

"And you're the pilot?" McKay repeated.

<Not all pilots are dumb jocks> John teased.

<I never said you're dumb. Only an idiot for not joining the MENSA club>

<I've never been a club person>

"Sure," Dunne answered. "So, you wanna take a look at the computer or the engine?"

Rodney was salivating already over the choices he had, but Zelenka was the man for the engines for now. He would check on him later on, see if his own expertise was needed. "Computer," he answered briskly.

He was deep into the read-outs not much later, and when the emergency power came on-line and the first systems sputtered into a reboot, JD and Rodney were talking tech.

Sheppard kept a close eyes on his lover, arching an eyebrow at the ship. It did remind him of the Aurora, only that it wasn't so white and bright and lit up. It looked like the Daedalus, with more of an Ancient flair to the interior, sans the scribbles and whirly designs.

It looked… nice. The whole ship felt nice. John couldn't put it any other way. It felt comfortable, like he could fly it at any moment – if the engines worked again, that was.

Watching Rodney talk with the Chimera's pilot, Sheppard smiled fondly. He could get the gist of what the two men were discussing. He was a pilot as well and he had hung out with Rodney enough to understand more and more tech talk. He wasn't stupid and you didn't make Major or even Colonel because someone liked your ass. Sheppard smirked a little. No, not that way. Promotions were a matter of on-going qualification, not just merits.

Settling against one of the dead work stations, he prepared himself for a few hours of Rodney Watch.

 

* * *

 

Rodney had found a very eager and interested helper in JD Dunne. While he had been a bit apprehensive to work with a 'jock' who probably didn't know a thing about this ship, aside from how fast it could fly, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Dunne was more than capable of understanding and relaying facts. Rodney didn't hold back on the tech talk, didn't dumb anything down, and soon he and JD were working together on fixing the access to the damaged mainframe of the Chimera.

"So you're saying the Chimera's Transspace drive is like what you call a Stargate?"

"It's a derivation of it."

"How?"

Rodney kept an eye on the self-diagnostics program as he turned most of his attention on JD.

"The Stargate is a massive, circular ring with an inner track of thirty-nine symbols representing star constellations, capable of sending people and objects hundreds of thousands of lightyears via an interstellar conduit, a wormhole."

"And Transspace is achieved by using the Jump engines," JD concluded. "We create our own conduit."

"And you have Jump points."

"Yep. How does a Gate work? I know I just initiate the Jump. The Chimera's computer does the rest. Well, kinda. I have to tell her where to go." He smiled.

Rodney was in his element. The computer program was still running and he knew how much he could tell anyone of their visitors without revealing confidential information.

"One side of the gate holds nine equally-spaced, V-shaped locking mechanisms. We call them chevrons. They're capable of locking at least seven constellations in place via a freely-spinning inner track. The first six glyphs lock down a point in space, while the seventh represents the point of origin. When the seventh chevron locks, an unstable energy vortex emerges from the gate, incinerating everything in its wake. Once the vortex is gone and the event horizon is established, outbound travel may commence. Once objects have exited the other side, the Stargate has the capability of shutting itself off."

"Cool."

"Very," Rodney agreed.

"How many are there?"

"The Ancients built a network that extends beyond our own galaxy, the galaxy where we came from. Not Pegasus. Someone once did an estimate. There could be as many as sixty-three billion."

JD just gaped.

"And how many have you travelled so far?" a new voice asked.

Rodney turned and faced the Chimera's engineer, Josiah Sanchez. He had been introduced to him first thing when the Atlantis team had arrived, but hadn’t talked much to him. Sanchez had an impressive size, almost like Ronon, his curly short hair and full bread already graying with more white peaking through the dark gray. He didn’t appear old, though. He had shed his uniform jacket, only wearing the undershirt, and it appeared he had been hip-deep in the engine.

"Very few," Rodney answered.

"It's a big number."

"It's an estimate. Some don't exist any more, others are buried, like ours was. Some are probably lost forever."

Sheppard ambled back onto the bridge and smiled at the assembled men. "Interrupting something important?" he asked.

<Just stunning my audience with the facts of life>

<Huh?>

<Stargates>

<Ah>

"Dr. McKay has been telling us about the Stargates," JD said, looking impressed. "This is really something. I wish we had them where we come from. It would make things a whole lot easier."

"Well, you haven't," Rodney simply said. "And it's hard enough to get your ship back into working order as it is. You made a mess out of almost everything when you crashed."

JD shot him an indignant look. "I got us down in one piece!"

"He's got a point there," Sheppard said easily. "From a pilot's point of view, coming down in one piece tops coming down with systems still working. Take it from me. I prefer the survival of myself to that of a computer."

Rodney huffed, but through the mind-link he agreed that John's survival was primary.

"I'll see what Zelenka has to say about the engines," he muttered and pushed past JD and Josiah. "Don't break what I just fixed."

Dunne grimaced. "I'm not a rookie, Dr. McKay. This is my ship and I know how to treat her."

But Rodney was already out of the room, heading for the rear.

Josiah ruffled the dark head affectionately. "Don't take it personally. Dr. McKay has a very… abrasive nature."

"I know his nature. I’ve been working with it for the past three hours."

John chuckled. "Well, he might be abrasive, but he's also a genius and if he tells you this can be fixed, it will be. Trust him."

JD snorted. "I do. The guy's really a genius for figuring out a system that took me months to learn how to operate. He said it's like a very garbled copy of what Atlantis uses."

"Dr. Zelenka is still with the engines, but he mentioned something like this as well," Josiah agreed.

"Well, I'll see what those two are up to," Sheppard decided. "See you."

And he headed for the engine room as well.

<Rodney, we got to talk about your new fan club>

<Huh? What?> McKay sounded a bit distracted.

<Bad time?>

<Kind of. Can you get Zelenka back to Atlantis? He has a simulation to run with the help of the main computer. I'll be busy here for a while longer>

Sheppard knew what 'a while longer' translated into. He wouldn't expect his lover to come home tonight.

<Send him outside. We'll fly back ASAP>

<Thanks>

Rodney sent a faint hug, then he was concentrating on something else again. John smiled and turned to find the exit ramp.

 

* * *

 

He had spent every waking minute aboard the Chimera, shooing around his own personnel as well as the ship's crew. Whoever looked like he had nothing to do was employed by Rodney McKay to help clear up the total mess the ship was. It wasn't just a matter of rebooting the main computer and slapping a band-aid onto the engine. Zelenka had given him a first report on the Transspace drive and it would have to be disassembled, repaired and then put together again.

Rodney delegated that work to the engineers. Just getting all the data out of the computer and making sense of it would be problematic enough. Then there were the many components that had been irreversibly damaged. Rodney was currently busy trying to find a good way to bridge the gap between their technology and that of the Chimera. It wasn't hard, but he had to work on so many fronts, take so many things into account, it was a bottomless pit.

McKay hadn't left the ship at all and when he had to return to Atlantis, he felt like in a daze.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth asked when he walked up the stairs to the command center.

He squared his shoulders a little more. "We need time," he told their expedition leader. "Whatever brought them down, it destroyed almost everything. It's a miracle they got the Chimera down in one piece. Well, more or less."

"How much repair time do you estimate?"

"Zelenka thinks he needs at least three more days for the engine and I can't be sure about the computer system. I'm rigging it."

Her sharp eyes studied him. "You look tired. Get some rest."

"Elizabeth…"

"The Chimera won't fly away. You just said so. We have no idea what brought her here and we can't fix her within the next few hours. Eat, get some rest, then you can return."

There was no arguing with food and sleep. The snacks he had grabbed here or there hadn't really been enough. He wasn't hypoglycaemic yet, but he was dead on his feet.

Oh well.

 

 

Rodney walked tiredly toward the mess hall, nodding at people he met in the corridors, without even realizing who they were. He knew their faces, but names evaded him. As he entered the mess hall, the hum of the conversation washed over him, making him dizzy. He was on automatic as he ordered a coffee, additionally a soda, and then got himself a sandwich. Turning, he discovered that a lot of seats were taken and somehow he knew that if he sat down, he might just not get up again. And he would very likely end up face first in his sandwich.

Okay, his quarters. He had had his meals there before and it wasn't all that far.

Rodney had no recollection of getting there at all. Suddenly the doors slid open and there was his bed, his desk, everything. He placed the food and drink on the table and scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes.

Food, his overtaxed brain informed him. Food, bed.

The door chime let him groan softly.

"Come in," he called, trying to sound more awake than he actually was.

John let the door close after him and shot McKay a critical look.

"You look like something the cat dragged in... after it died out in the rain," he commented wryly as he let his eyes rake over his lover.

"Why thank you, Colonel, that's just what I needed," Rodney muttered, grimacing.

Sheppard chuckled. "I won't hedge any bets as to how much you actually slept. I'd lose." He walked over to the table and inspected the food and drink. "You aren't planning on having coffee, now are you?"

"What's wrong with coffee?"

"In your condition? Just about everything." Sheppard shook his head. "Water would be better. You need to sleep."

Rodney pinched his aching eyes. "I didn't feel tired until I came here."

"I felt your exhaustion."

That got Sheppard a sharp look. Rodney felt a wave of guilt. <Sorry>

John went over to him and slipped an arm around his waist. Rodney sighed and wrapped his arms around the other man, reveling in the feeling of the warm body he had missed a lot lately.

A feathery kiss was bestowed on his lips, then Sheppard moved behind him, hands resting on the tight shoulders. His lover started to carefully knead the tense muscles and Rodney groaned. He leaned into the warmth, eyes sliding shut. The physicist started to sway slightly and the Colonel's grip tightened. Rodney had the feeling as if the ground beneath him was suddenly gone. Eyes snapped open and he held onto the chair as he nearly collapsed. Sleep deprivation, he realized.

"Whoa," Rodney murmured, trying to stop the world from tilting.

<You are dead on your feet> John muttered.

"I'm fine..."

McKay straightened, pushing away from the support, only to nearly fall. He gritted his teeth, furiously blinking his eyes.

"Right!" Sheppard snorted. "I know your 'fine'."

<Look who's talking!> Rodney shot back, briefly roused by the small argument. <You're the one who says he's fine even after he gets shot, stabbed, poisoned, bitten by a bug and whatnot!>

<That's different>

"Uh-huh...."

Sheppard gently pushed the other man to the bed and started to undress him. "It is. Now shut up."

"Hope you're not planning something for tonight," Rodney mumbled.

"All I'm planning, Dr. McKay, is for you to eat and to sleep. Eight hours straight. More, if you need it."

"I have a ship to fix."

"You have a team of very capable scientists who work in shifts on all the problems you threw at them. They can handle this for the next hours."

Sheppard pushed the food at him and Rodney took it with a scowl. He bit into the sandwich, his stomach rumbling with hunger.

<Rodney> John threatened. <Do you want me to call Elizabeth?>

<What? Reverting to threats? I'm not afraid of her!>

The Sandwich was almost devoured and the cold drink followed. He left the coffee where it was, shooting John a pointed look. Sheppard just smiled benignly.

<You aren't needed for now. If there is an emergency, they'll call, rest assured>

<Communications might not work>

"It will, Rodney. Now shoo! Go to bed. Sleep!"

"Mother-hen," McKay groused, no fire in his voice. He was too tired.

He fell gracelessly onto the mattress, his body feeling heavy and uncooperative. John helped him with his clothes, though the shirt and boxers stayed on.

"Stay with me?" he mumbled.

John smiled. "I thought you weren't up to anything," he teased.

"Ha-ha." Rodney forced heavy lids open. "Please? Want you here."

Sheppard's smile widened and he undressed as well, then crawled in. He kissed his exhausted lover, their tongues touching briefly.

Feeling safe, warm and content, Rodney let the world slip away and sleep claim him.

 

* * *

 

It had started to rain throughout the evening and by nightfall the rain was coming down in sheets. Chris stood at one of the observation windows and gazed out into the gray landscape around them. Rivulets of water ran down the window panes. He sipped at his coffee, lost in thought.

The presence of his lover had him turn his head and smile at Ezra. The other slid an arm around his waist and they kissed softly.

<They beat us by lengths in the development of their bond> Chris remarked.

Ezra nodded, arm still around the slender waist. <Yes. Maybe it's the attraction that existed prior to the bond. Maybe they're just generally different. We never had the problem with separation in the first year because we were on BP-379 and trapped. They came back and didn't understand what was happening. They tried to be apart and it all got worse. Then came a sexual relationship not much later. I think their closeness is the deciding factor>

Chris agreed. <It's amazing. To find this galaxy, discover that we have common ancestors, a race that seeded all kinds of worlds in different galaxies. We have an almost similar development, though we're slightly ahead of them when it comes to space travel>

<Because our ancestors were already further along and mixed with races they found in this new galaxy>

Larabee placed his mug on the table next to the window and drew Ezra closer as he leaned against the wall, still gazing at the rain.

"You think we'll get out of here? Back home?" he murmured.

"I don't know. We have the best possible help in my opinion."

Chris sighed and briefly closed his eyes. The strain of the past days was getting to him. Crashed on an alien world, outside their galaxy, and there was no idea yet how to get them back. The Stargates weren't an option. For one, the Chimera was too big. And then, even if they decided to leave the beloved ship here, there was still the matter of how to reach their home without a Stargate that existed there.

<We'll find a way> Ezra murmured.

<I hope so>

<And until then there is a Kiowata who needs our help. Sheppard has a long way to go>

Chris caught his lips in a kiss again and Ezra responded more this time.

Outside the rain was coming down harder, there was thunder, some lightning, and the winds had picked up. An all out miserable weather.

<Bed's more comfy> Ezra whispered seductively.

Chris chuckled, but he didn't protest.

 

* * *

 

Dr. Nathan Jackson was impressed by the level of technology in the medical labs. Beckett had given him the grand tour and the two men had easily fallen into a long discussion about various medical methods. Theirs weren't all too different.

"This is all I have on Kiowata and Borderlines," Nathan explained as they sat over a cup of coffee in what Carson called his office. "I've worked with Chris and Ezra for almost five years now and it's the most extensive research I've ever done."

Carson took the disk and checked it for compatibility with his system.

"Dr. McKay assured me this disk would run on your computers," Jackson added with a smile.

"It does," the other doctor replied.

There was a soft whirring and his screen lit up with the contents page. Jackson had been right. This was extensive and he would need some time to go through it.

"What are the basics I need to know?" Carson asked.

"Well, let's start with the Kiowata. They're intelligent beings, social, very protective of their mates, and unlike many herd animals, they are known to live with one mate only. Others are the lead stallion of a herd of mainly mares. It seems to depend on preference."

"I don't expect the Colonel to gather a herd," Carson remarked wryly.

"Neither do I. Colonel Sheppard isn't pure Kiowata. He's a human being who was turned into an animal and changed back. His instincts are those of a Kiowata when it comes to threat and danger. Chris has a very good sense of danger and he's protective. The Kiowata doesn't rule the human mind. He won't start displaying behavior patterns of a herd leader, the stallion, but he is a team leader, Dr. Beckett. The dominance factor is there. He's, to speak in terms of pack animals, the alpha. He'll protect what is his and he'll fight it, but the human mind of Colonel Sheppard won't be falling to the whim of the Kiowata. He won't just go primal."

Nathan smiled and Carson chuckled.

"Good to know."

"Right now he needs to create a balance between both and for the next months I expect both Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard to be very close, seeking each other out."

"They've always hung out around the other," Beckett supplied.

"Kiowata who have found a herd or a mate hate loneliness, so that's a huge motivator for him at the moment. When things are quieting down, he'll be back to his old self. As a Kiowata he has the requirements of any horse-like animal, though they are very tough and enduring. Chris had a colic while he and Ezra were alone for a year, but that was because of a dietary problem. He had been relying on one kind of food for too long.”

Beckett nodded. “So I don’t need to bring in a vet?” he asked, half joking, half serious.

Jackson chuckled. “No. I don’t know what animals you have here that can be compared to a Kiowata, but so far the Kiowata comes out with flying colors were health, strength and resilience is concerned.”

Beckett made a note to look up some things.

 “Communication with a Kiowata is possible,” Nathan went on. “The Agency and the Handlers developed a kind of translator. The schematics are there. You can build your own."

Beckett nodded. This was a job for Rodney. "What about this bond and mind-link?"

"The bond is deeper than the mind-link. The mind connection allows them to send emotions and words. They will start experimenting with it and there are a multitude of variations. It's all in the file. The bond is more complex and that's what they're currently developing. It's keeping them in synch, in more ways than one. Chris once described Ezra as the missing half of his soul."

"Rodney and the Colonel are very different people."

"And still they were good friends before this happened. Still they developed feelings. And they survived three months together." Nathan smiled. "They fit each other, body and soul and mind. I can tell you what happened to Chris when he first turned back human. The connection between him and Ezra wasn't the result of a Kiowata meeting a human. Kiowata aren't natural empaths. When Chris told me Ezra was a Borderline, I came to the conclusion that the very genes that set Ezra apart from other humans had made him connect to Chris. Why exactly with him was a puzzle, but Chris's mind had accepted the offered connection and had integrated it into itself. Through the transformation from Kiowata back to human, Chris had taken the bond along, but it had weakened. It was starting to show in those first few days. Chris was more jumpy, irritable and he was nervous for no apparent reason."

 

 _"He's gone." Chris' voice was toneless as he tried to comprehend what he had just found out._

 _Ezra was gone. He had left the Gateway station. No good-bye, no explanation._

 _Does he need one? a small voice asked._

 _No, not really._

 _The pain of loss was raw in Chris’s soul and he felt like something important had been ripped from him. Buck looked at him with an almost guilty expression, but Larabee couldn't fault him. His friend had known that Ezra had left on horse-back, but since he had been caught up in Regulator matters, he had simply forgotten to alert Chris to the thief's absence. Wilmington had done his job as a liaison to the new law on this planet, all that had been expected of him._

 _It had taken Chris too long to realize that what he felt wasn't just the yearning to be back outside in the wilderness again, that the craving wasn't just the need to run and be free. He had singled out the point of the most intense sensation and found it to be the bond. He had thought it would be severed when he turned human, that it had been part of the Kiowata, but he had been wrong. Since then it had only been a matter of time till he had discovered that Ezra had disappeared._

 _Chris was ashamed to admit that he had given him little thought actually. He had been too relieved to be back, to be human again, though he had found out there were a few more side-effects that would linger. He had spent a lot of time with his team before he had been changed back, had been debriefed and had caught up on what had happened while he had actually been gone._

 _And I never lost a thought about Ezra._

 _For the first time in so many months, Chris had felt human again, and he had enjoyed it. It wasn't a crime, but he had so conveniently forgotten that there had been a vital part of him missing._

 _Vin raised an inquiring eyebrow._

 _"He left the station. He is not responding to the bond somehow." Chris felt like he was sinking as the full implications hit him._

 _Nathan had been all over him with scans and medical tests. The results had been astounding and frightening in one. The connection between him and Ezra wasn't the result of a Kiowata meeting a human. Kiowata weren't natural empaths. In Nathan's professional opinion, and because Chris had explained that Ezra was Borderline, the very genes that set Standish apart from other humans had made him connect to Chris. Why exactly with him was a puzzle, but Chris's mind had accepted the offered connection and had integrated it into itself. Through the transformation from Kiowata back to human, Chris had taken the bond along, but it had weakened. It was starting to show. Chris was more jumpy, irritable and he was nervous for no apparent reason._

 _"Ezra triggered you," Nathan had explained. "He gave you back humanity, most likely because he is a latent empath. The first time you met, he unconsciously set you free. I doubt he knows it. He stabilized you and you gave him a point of balance. Now that you are human again, the connection is in danger of unraveling." A serious expression had been in the dark eyes. "Chris, I'm not sure what it'll do to you. Your brain patterns changed significantly because of Ezra."_

 _Chris didn't want to find out. He and Vin would look for Standish, even if they had to turn the planet upside down._

 _"How do you want to find him?" It was a reasonable question, but also one very hard to answer._

 _Chris had a faraway expression in his eyes. "The bond," he finally said._

 _Vin nodded, accepting the statement with his usual calm demeanor. "How well can you use it to pinpoint his position?"_

 _"No clue. When it was just the two of us, out there, I had a pretty good idea where he was all the time. It was like a reassuring background hum and I could home in on it. Now..." Chris looked slightly helpless._

 _"From what you told me about him, he wouldn't leave civilization now that he found it," Vin mused out loud, "so he'll be in one of the towns. We could wait for him to get into trouble," he added with a grin. "That would get us to him faster."_

 _Chris grimaced. "And it would most likely get him dead. He's a con and thief, Vin. We met while he was beating a hasty retreat from a bunch of people out for his blood."_

 _"Point taken. So we search through the settlements?"_

 _"Yep. It's the best lead we have."_

 _"Might take a while. Travis won't be happy."_

 _Larabee's eyes darkened. "Screw Travis! Ezra is a part of me and I'm not leaving without him!"_

 _Vin smiled calmly, nodding. "I know." With that he walked over to the stables._

 _Chris frowned and then followed him. They would have to inform the others, get horses, food and a map. He would find Ezra, whatever it took and however long. He just would._

 _* * *_

 _It had taken them nearly a week to get to this place, no thanks to the fluctuating bond. By the time they arrived in Edge, a small town at the very edge of the Glass Fields, Chris was feeling irritable to no end. Something was happening to the bond and it didn't feel very good. It was getting more unstable, as if one side was about to break completely, and he knew that those feelings accurately described the current situation. Ezra was running, hiding, trying to close the connection he had to Chris, and it was driving them both insane._

 _Vin had decided to keep an eye on things happening on the streets. Chris was glad he had come along, even though Larabee had protested that he would be able to find Ezra alone. The week on the lookout for the thief had shown him that if he had been alone, he would most likely be dead by now. His temper was short, his emotions were boiling, and the pressure in the back of his mind was increasing steadily._

 _No one gave much of a notice as Chris entered the local bar. People were drinking, laughing, playing games or bargaining with each other over goods. Chris felt the familiar twang of the bond, this time a tenfold from what he had had in the last few days. Ezra was here. In this very room. And he intended to find him, drag him out of here by force if necessary._

 

 

Beckett nodded. "Something similar happened to Colonel Sheppard."

"With the difference that Ezra had taken it into his own hands to decide what was good for Chris and had walled himself off – after the bond had been fully established. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay are still developing that bond."

Beckett looked thoughtful. “Well, at least the lad didn’t try to run.”

Though in a way he had. Sheppard had tried to run from what it meant to be connected to someone else, needing and hating it in one. Beckett suspected that the denial didn’t come from the fact that it was Rodney. It was more or less a matter of independence and trying not to need something so badly, it hurt.

“Do they trust you, Dr. Beckett?" Nathan asked all of a sudden.

"I am their doctor. I hope they do."

"Trust is crucial. While they affirm this bond there will be changes for them. They need someone they can trust with this, someone who doesn't judge them."

"If you're talking about their sexual relationship," Carson said sharply, "I'm not prejudiced, nor is my staff."

"Good." Jackson gave him a calm smile. "We had trouble with one of our own people, but things have smoothed over. Let's just say that a Kiowata can react illogically."

Beckett accepted that.

They delved deeper into the physiology of the Kiowata, into the shape-changing process, into what Borderlines were in Jackson's home galaxy, and what the Ancient gene did. All in all it proved to be quite an intense conversation with a lot of information exchange.

 

* * *

 

While half of Atlantis’ engineering team was busy repairing the Chimera under the lead of Radek Zelenka, Rodney had bullied his scientists into searching for an explanation why the Chimera had been ripped out of her Jump and ended up galaxies from home. When he wasn’t on the Chimera, he was haunting the labs. Some people wondered when the man slept, others just tried not to be there when he was going over the meager results so far.

With the arrival of Ezra Standish Atlantis had fired up so many new systems and allowed access to new sensors, it was like a huge playing field that no one knew how to navigate as fast as Rodney wanted them to. Finally, after days of trial and error, something was finally found.

Rodney read over the data on the screen, face a mask of concentration. His lips became a fine line, pressed together, and his brows dropped down.

"It's an anomaly," he murmured.

"It opened right before the Chimera crashed," one of his team supplied. "It's been holding steady ever since, but it's fluctuating inside."

Rodney nodded, mind whirling. "We need to take a closer look," he finally decided and turned sharply, heading out of the lab and toward Weir's office.

 

* * *

 

"What kind of anomaly, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked.

"From the data we have of the Chimera's crash, and what Atlantis is still picking up, as well as our own knowledge of such phenomena, I'd say it's a wormhole without the visible event horizon we have from our Stargates," McKay answered. "The Chimera was inside a wormhole when she was suddenly thrown out and left to crash here. There was a tremendous force at work, entering a stable wormhole and ripping the ship out, without actually tearing it to pieces. Elizabeth, if this is a gateway into their galaxy, we have to take a closer look! It could be the answer as to what happened now and what happened in the past!"

She frowned. "The past?"

"The Ancients were part of the development of their societies. They never left Stargates. I believe they went there before the actual Stargates were developed!" Rodney's eyes were alight, his voice full of excitement. "The Chimera uses a derivation of the technology that later enabled the Ancients to use Stargates. The basic ideas are the same, but something happened and maybe they were cut off from here, from the others. I'm still trying to find references in the database, but that might take a while. We need to send a probe for now."

"You want to send a MALP?"

"Something like it."

"How dangerous is this open portal in space."

Rodney shrugged. "No more than any Stargate. It's unstable inside, but the edges seem to hold tight."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "How close can we get with a 'Jumper?"

"Close enough. Elizabeth, please! We can remote-launch the probe. We don't have to fly in to the edge for it."

"All right," she agreed. "We'll do it."

Rodney's face split into a wide smile.

 

*

 

The next hours were spent in preparation for the 'Jumper launch and  Sheppard argued he would fly it. He was the best-suited pilot for the task. Rodney argued back in return that some missions could be left to other pilots, that the head of the military didn't need to be there, on the front line, but in the end Sheppard won.

Elizabeth had watched the argument and she knew there had been a lot of unheard cursing, yelling and snarking going on over the mind-link. It was still a mystery to her. She would have been the first to bet on the outcome of mind-linking Sheppard and McKay. She would have argued that they would probably drive the other insane, but nothing really bad had happened. A few difficulties in the beginning, which hadn’t been solely attributed to being linked, and after that the sometimes weird soundless arguments that could be followed by watching their expressions.

Weir smiled a little to herself. Yes, she would have to get used to this and she knew that one day others would find out as well. They couldn’t kept this a secret indefinitely. Hopefully Sheppard would stop blocking her efforts to make him tell his team one day.

 

* * *

 

When the probe entered the portal, a crowd of scientists was hunched over their stations, Rodney and Zelenka among them, watching every little blip. Data began to roll in almost immediately and voices rose, babbling, Rodney the loudest among them, yelling for order, for data, for just about everything.

"It's through!" Zelenka could be heard.

McKay was at his side in a moment, leaning over the Czech's shoulder, peering at the data.

"Location, people!" he snapped.

More people scrambled around and finally there was a read-out on the huge screen behind them. Rodney turned and studied it all, then barked more orders. Elizabeth just watched as the screen began to clear up more and more. The probe wasn't sending pictures, just bursts of data. It wouldn't last long, Rodney had told them. It was a short-lived affair and whatever they could get, they would.

"Yes!" Rodney suddenly exclaimed.

"Rodney?"

"We got it! It's the right area of the universe we've been looking for."

Elizabeth felt some of the tension leave her.

"I still have to go through everything the probe sent us while passing through the portal," Rodney went on, voice rising and talking faster. "There was an immense pressure on it and we have to recalculate the shield factors…"

He was starting to walk off, already tapping away on his portable. 

"Zelenka!" he yelled.

The engineer rolled his eyes and hurried after his colleague.

 

* * *

 

Rodney knew he should have expected a reaction to happen, but not so soon and not so violently. For the past days he had been busy aboard the Chimera, working on the computers while Radek and his team had taken over the engine room. As much as they helped the Agency crew to make their ship fit for flying, they also used whatever information they could glean for their own use.

The main computer was up and more or less running. Sometimes it powered down or just crashed for no apparent reason, and Rodney was left to curse and mutter and undo what he had painstakingly put together to bridge two systems. But now things were looking up. Aside from his brief trip to Atlantis, there had been no further contact. He slept on the Chimera, catching a few hours here or there, and else he was doing what he could. It was as if they were rebuilding the core of the Chimera from the most basic components.

Sheppard had been back and forth between the crash site and Atlantis. He had spent time with Ezra, but only to talk, and Rodney had no idea what they had spoken about. His lover was stone-walling the mind-link and McKay had too much to do on his end to poke and prod. He had immersed himself in a technology that was remarkably similar to the Ancients', but with a twist.

JD had really been a fountain of information on Transspace flight and Rodney had his own theories how everything worked. When he wasn't either diving into the mainframe or listening to JD, he was trying to figure out how the Chimera had been ripped out of Transspace and into their galaxy.

Larabee and his crew were truly far away from home. The distance between their home and Atlantis was several times the distance from Atlantis to Earth. So he poured his remaining energy into beating the science team back home on Atlantis into figuring out what had caused this accident. Atlantis' long range scanners might not have picked up the Chimera before she had almost literally been on their doorstep, but maybe there had been an unregistered disturbance.

So with all that going on, John Sheppard had taken a backseat when it came to Rodney, and now Rodney was paying for his mistake. Larabee had told them how crucial closeness was, and they had been through it before, but things had just gotten out of hand – and John had been handed something intense and very personal to chew on.

When Rodney finally came up for air, he found his lover missing, the mind-link painfully stretched and aching, and it was like an alarm going off in McKay's mind.

"Shit," he whispered, feeling the headache more pronouncedly now.

It was time to go home.

 

*

 

He found him on one of the many balconies of Atlantis, away from the more crowded hallways and corridors, in a place where few people ever came. Sheppard stood at the railing, gazing out over the ocean.

<John?> Rodney announced his presence.

A visible shudder ran through the lean frame. The wind was tugging at Sheppard's vest and Rodney picked up the faint unease of the cold, the shivers that weren't just the emotional reaction to it all, and his own goose bumps told him that John was cold.

He gently wrapped his arms around the lean form, ready to let go and retreat should John indicate that he wasn't comfortable, but no such sign was given. He drew him close.

<Sorry. Didn't listen. I should have. Sorry>

He should have listened to the mind-link, taken care of his lover, and Rodney hadn't. He had been too immersed in the new toys, the new ship, the very idea of the Ancients going somewhere they hadn't left Stargates.

Another tremor went through Sheppard's body. Rodney got the gist of what was going through the other man's mind and he closed his eyes. So much was changing for them, had already changed, it was still not over. The soul bond scared John. It terrified Rodney, too.

He wanted so much to give in to his own fear and terror and flight reaction, but he had to be in control since Sheppard wasn't. It wasn't for him to freak out first any more. Not when it concerned them, the mind-link. He had been the one in charge whenever it had come to emotional breakdowns and he had always had his own later on. John was susceptible to the Kiowata's instinctual nature and though he had regained control of himself and his emotions, there were moments, like this one, when things just collapsed around him.

Moments that weren't in the military handbook. Moments that couldn't be solved by falling back on tactics and what Sheppard had been trained to do.

Rodney buried his face against one shoulder, fighting his own reaction. He was terrified of what he had been told about their connection, about what this meant, about being soul-bonded. He loved John and he liked the mind-link, but a soul bond was so much deeper, so much stronger, held so many implications.

<I won't leave> he sent.

Because it was a fear so deep inside the Kiowata, it dictated Sheppard's actions.

<I love you>

<This isn't… about love. This is… it's like an imperative. We can't… we can't…> John broke off, a violent shudder making him clench his hands tightly around the railing.

They were connected so deeply, so thoroughly, one wouldn't survive the death of the other. They were in synch now, in so many ways, and while part of Rodney was completely and utterly thrilled that this was the Ancient gene's doing, another was horrified.

<We will> he soothed.

They would survive this, too. They would get through this. All the horrifying scenarios of violent death aside, he believed in their future. It was all he could do, aside from losing it and collapsing like a babbling idiot.

<I'm here, John. I'll always be here>

<Not if we can't stand each other any more>

He chuckled weakly. <Now why wouldn't we?>

John turned and gazed at him, those hazel eyes wide and filled with something that wasn't fear, that wasn't horror -- it was this need. A need the Kiowata had had on the planet, a need Sheppard had of Rodney.

"You think we're that compatible? For life?"

"According to Standish, the bond doesn't choose logically. It's… well, we should be a match. It's a bit of a mystic mumbo-jumbo and I'm getting their files on this machine of theirs, comparing it to what I have from ours on M7B-377. I should be able to determine, with the Ancient database's help, what molecular…"

His mouth was captured in a hard, almost bruising kiss and Rodney couldn't but shut up as Sheppard's body pushed against him. He stumbled back, colliding with the wall, and John continued to invade and plunder his mouth. There was no finesse, just raw need and hunger. Rodney grabbed fistfuls of shirt and vest, unable to think clearly. Shove him away or draw him closer? End this or let it go on?

His brain shut down and his instinct took over, his lust and rivaled need, and he pulled the other man in even closer, fighting for dominance, for control. This time John didn't just give in. He fought back. Hands fumbled with buttons and zippers and groped and fondled. Rodney groaned deeply as John's hands scraped over his rising arousal.

He couldn't let this get out of hand. He knew where John was going, what he wanted, but not here. He wouldn't give in to the demand for a quick, hard fuck. He was aware that relief was needed, fast and hard, so he finally did manage to take control and he pushed his trembling lover against the wall. The next kiss was harsh, with a gentler nip at the end, and blue eyes bore into hazel.

Then Rodney sank to his knees, and before John could react, his mouth sucked in the rising erection. Sheppard gave a cry of pleasure, of need, and Rodney set a truly demanding pace. He sucked and nibbled and used his teeth, tongue and hands to bring his lover to the brink. Hands clawed at his shoulder, pushing or pulling, undecided on whether to draw away or go deeper. One of Rodney's hands was keeping the jerking hips under control, the other used every trick in the book.

John came violently, screaming his release. His knees gave way almost immediately and Rodney pulled him close, one hand still fondling the twitching erection until he felt John's hunger subside.

Their lips met again, gentler this time, and Sheppard curled closer, seeking comfort, shelter, and warmth. Rodney felt his own tremors increase, still not out of his system, and they just huddled together on the balcony, seeking and giving comfort in one.

 

 

"Tell me what you got," John murmured.

They had made it back to their quarters, Rodney's quarters, and now lay fully clothed on the bed. Sheppard had curled up close, seeking full body contact, his head resting on Rodney's broad chest. Rodney's hand played with the unruly, messy strands.

"So far? Little bits and pieces," McKay answered, losing himself in the science. "There was a disturbance throughout their Transspace jump. Something interfered with their wormhole, ripped them out and got them here. JD and I analyzed the data. It looks like the signature of a black hole. It opened up their wormhole tunnel and flung them halfway across space to here. I have a team on it."

John grunted an affirmative, that he had understood.

"Their ship is almost back to normal. Zelenka's guys really outdid themselves. Don't tell them, though. They're too full of themselves anyway," Rodney grumbled. "But we got a good look at their engines and the Transspace drive. It's a derivation of the Gate, actually. They punch their own hole into space, establish a wormhole, and off they go. It has limited capabilities, so they have to use what they call Jump Points. And they can't do it from every point in space either, like with hyperdrive. It's complicated."

"I'm not an idiot," John murmured.

Rodney caressed the dark head. "No, you're not," he confirmed softly. "You're one of the smartest men outside the elite science team we have here I ever met."

Hazel eyes looked up at him and Rodney smiled. It was a tender smile, loving, without sneers or the trademark sarcasm.

<Thanks>

<You are, John Sheppard. You're good>

It got him a contended sigh, most likely because he was running his fingers over John's neck in a loving caress.

"From what I can gather of their history, the Ancients were there way before they came to Earth. Before the Wraith even got here. I think I can dig into the database here, see if we can find anything on their earlier ventures into other galaxies. It might explain some things."

"Like the machine?" Sheppard asked quietly.

"Yes, like the machine. The one on M7B-377 was really old. Not millions of years, but older than ten thousand years. Remarkably preserved, but old." Rodney looked at his lover, saw the lingering lines of stress. "You talked to Ezra, hm?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Tomorrow," John avoided the answer. <I want you along. Please?>

Rodney frowned. <John?>

<Please?>

He sighed. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll be there."

Rodney listened and watched as Sheppard started to drift off, the last few days taking their toll. He would send Zelenka out alone tomorrow to finish the repairs, while he would accompany John. And then he had to check in on his team. Larabee and his crew had to get back to their own world, and whatever had sent them here, Rodney was convinced he could use it to send them home.

 

* * *

 

John had been rather monosyllabic, even over the mind-link, and when they met up with Chris and Ezra, his tension grew. Rodney was wondering what this was all about. Sheppard had talked to the other man once or twice, as far as Rodney knew, but this was different.

"You said I can shape-change at will," John now said, each word almost clipped. "How?"

Standish looked around and shook his head. "We should go somewhere more secluded. The mainland would be preferable, but a remote area within this city would do, too."

Sheppard briefly glanced at Rodney, who shot him a frown, then nodded. "We'll keep it here. Follow me."

 

*

 

The Colonel had chosen one of those areas that had been hit by the storm almost two years ago, an area that hadn't been in use before and probably never would be. He looked at their two visitors, the two men who had the same bond as they were developing.

"The Kiowata is the instinct in you, the itch you describe," Ezra told them without John asking another question. "Being trapped in human form in an artificial world makes your Kiowata side want to come out and, for lack of a better word, play." He smiled at John's expression of shock. "You can suppress it, but after a while it gets too overpowering. Give yourself this freedom. Run, Colonel. Let it out."

"You said I can do it at will."

"Yes. Like Chris and I can."

Rodney regarded him curiously. "How?" he only wanted to know, eyes on Ezra and the blond Commander.

"It's a principle of mind over matter. Your mind controls the trigger inside you, the part responsible for the change. The trigger, once found, is easy to locate again, but the tricky part is not to change unconsciously. Changes can happen because of emotions or thoughts, and if they happen when you least expect them, it can be embarrassing."

<Elizabeth would be thrilled to have an alien horse at her briefings>

<Shut up, Rodney>

"You, Colonel, need to first accept that there is this ability inside you, that it's an itch that truly needs scratching. You can't lose control of your instinct like you did the first time because now you know it's going to happen. Don't fear it."

John gritted his teeth and felt Rodney's reassuring touch.

<And I'm here, John. I've got you.>

From the expression in Standish's eyes he knew what McKay had said and agreed with it. "Your partner is important," Ezra said out loud. "He is your life-line, your anchor. I trusted Chris with my sanity before, letting the Kiowata take over in a dangerous situation, and he held me, kept me from sliding away."

Sheppard suppressed a shiver, then squared his shoulders. "How do I do it?" he finally asked. "How do I locate the trigger?"

"Do you remember what it was like to be Kiowata?"

He smiled wryly. "Yes."

"Good. First of all, before you start to think about changing, you need to get naked."

Rodney smiled and Sheppard grumbled as he started to strip off his uniform. He was glad they were in a very deserted area and no one could stumble over them.

<Don't worry. Atlantis won't reveal our presence here>

<What?>

<You just concentrate on changing. Let me do the rest>

"Now think of that feeling, what it was like and..."

It was a blur. For John, there was a sudden change for his point of view, his center of balance was slightly off and he almost stumbled, and a snort escaped him. A horse sound.

<John?>

He got a little worry from Rodney, mixed with admiration for the sleek, dark brown beauty he had become.

<Uh… wow…>

So easy. So totally easy.

<And how do I get back?>

Rodney translated and Ezra smiled at the huge equine. "The same way, but that's a bit more difficult. You have to reverse what you just did."

<I have no clue what I just did!>

<You changed> Rodney supplied unhelpfully.

Sheppard glared at him, ears lying flat on his head.

Ezra chuckled. "Try to think human again. Imagine yourself as Colonel John Sheppard."

<And what am I right now?> came the sharp reply. <A horse?>

<Actually... yes...> Rodney told him, smirking. <A Kiowata. You look like a race horse, John, and you're beautiful>

"Think human," Ezra repeated.

Nothing happened. John pranced angrily, shaking his head.

"Keep calm, don't force it. Relax and let it happen like you did before."

<I can't!>

But there was a sudden rush again and before he could regain his suddenly once-again changed balance, he fell to his knees.

<John!>

Rodney was at his side, touching him, anchoring him, and Sheppard drew a deep breath. He gritted his teeth and pushed to his feet, swaying. He was stark naked, but he didn't care. Burning hazel eyes met calm green ones.

"Well done, Colonel. This is how it works. It will get smoother in time. You just have to listen to your instincts and you need to remain in control."

John let his mind fall back to what he had already done once, and from Rodney's startled exclamation and his own senses, he had made another shift. Nostrils blew open wide and he gave his lover a smug smile over the link.

Rodney sat on the ground, looking shocked and angry in one. <Warn a guy, will you?!>

<Sorry>

<You're not!> came the outraged response.

Sheppard approached and lowered his head, brushing velvety lips against Rodney's cheek. <I am. Sorry>

McKay gently caressed the soft snout. <Yeah, well, don't do it again> he grumbled and got to his feet.

Sheppard once again initiated the change back and found it much easier, barely unbalancing. He grinned at his lover, who ran his eyes over the nude form before him.

"You have exhibitionistic tendencies, Colonel," Rodney remarked dryly.

<And you don't really mind at all>

McKay snorted and grabbed John's pants, holding them out to him. "Get decent."

Ezra and Chris had stood back and only approached when John was semi-dressed.

"You're doing well. Get to the mainland, run, enjoy the Kiowata's freedom," Standish advised. "It helps with the itch. The itch is a sure sign that you need to let the Kiowata out for a while. You can't trap it forever in human form. And don't worry, the itch isn't an imperative. It's just a first sign that you should unwind."

Sheppard nodded, pulling the shirt over his head. "Wouldn't want to change abruptly and against my will just because of the Kiowata," he muttered.

"You're the one in control, Colonel," Larabee said seriously. "Train it. It's like a weapon and you have the Kiowata's instincts and speed at your disposal. Nathan gave everything he has to you Dr. Beckett. He'll know all about the Kiowata that we do. Trust him."

"I do."

"Good." Larabee was silent for a moment, then added, "I'd advise to tell your team one day. I know it's not easy and my world is more acquainted with the shape-changers, but you have a tactical advantage, as well as a personal disadvantage. The link is strong and it is vulnerable. Should either of you get hurt, the other will feel it."

Rodney clenched his hands into fists, his presence more pronounced now. Sheppard just kept his attention on the blond in the black uniform.

"I understand," he simply said.

And he didn't want to talk any more about it. Larabee accepted it with a brisk nod.

 

 

They returned to the more inhabited areas and Sheppard went to a military briefing. Rodney decided that his presence was needed in the labs, to scare everyone into working, and their two visitors flew over to the main land once more.

 

* * *

 

It was after almost a week that Rodney decided that they could risk firing up not only the main computer, but also bring the peripheral systems on line. Some of those systems had been the source of many sleepless nights, curses and threats. While the Chimera was based on Ancient technology, the development had been different between both galaxies. The Chimera shorted or fried systems that worked just fine in Atlantis. Then there were components that didn't do anything at all and should have, or relayed too little power.

Zelenka had had his own fill of problems and when they had finally reassembled the engines, they were more of Ancient design than the original had ever been.

"Okay, reboot," Rodney ordered, a frown of concentration on his forehead as he watched the read-out. "Get systems on line like a flight check."

"Gotcha. Starting with main computer," JD announced.

Rodney never looked away from the screen as each system came on line, as each powered up. The bridge was lighting up, a soft hum permeating the air, and the emergency lighting was replaced by normal one.

"Radek, get ready for an engine test run," McKay informed the engineer.

"We're ready," was the reply.

Rodney gestured at JD to start the engines.

It didn't take more than five seconds for a yell over the intercom that told them to stop, but it was enough.

Rodney closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Damn.

"Damage report."

"We just blew the Jump engine," Zelenka answered. "

"Completely?"

"More or less. Josiah thinks it's just the outer unit. We'll get back to you."

Rodney switched off the com and glanced at JD. The younger man looked a bit dejected.

"Damn," Dunne muttered.

"Well said. We lost a few of the control systems. I'll get back to them. You can power her down. The Chimera's not going anywhere."

 

* * *

 

They had returned to Atlantis after a few grueling hours of work and Rodney was very much ready to just close the door behind him and sleep for a week. Well, not really sleep. Doze a little and then get back to work. The Chimera was a ship he couldn't get enough of. But there was someone who needed him, something he had never had before in his life, and this new life was something he actually liked a lot. It hadn't really taken that much getting used to. John Sheppard was a welcome distraction.

Rodney had taken care to keep the link open, to have Sheppard close, as not to trigger another bout of freaking out and need. So when he and his team had left the 'Jumper and gone their way, most of them to bed, he had headed for Sheppard's quarters.

Rodney's hand wandered over the lean sides of his lover, enjoying the simple contact as he slowly and languidly kissed him. John responded beautifully, opening up to his ministrations, making soft noises of encouragement, and Rodney was reminded of Larabee's words.

 _Kiowata are sensual beings. They like touching. Reaffirmation of the connection between you two is essential._

They had done things right, with a few bad exceptions. Giving John the necessary physical closeness that didn't always mean sex, touching him, holding him, had calmed the leftover wild instinct considerably. Larabee had been a Kiowata for close to a year and in that time he had been with Ezra non-stop. Sheppard had had to work with three months. And he had pushed Rodney away, still needing him, but not wanting to need him.

John pulled him closer, his kisses hungrier, and Rodney drew back, soothing the eager nips and bites, taking control. He slid his hands under the black, long-sleeved shirt. He loved how it hugged his lover's figure, showed the slender form. He couldn't say that of himself. He wasn't lean and athletic.

<Don't care> Sheppard whispered in his mind.

<I do>

<You're looking good. You're in shape. Off world missions do that to you> Another playful bite that had Rodney push his mischievously smiling lover back.

Hazel eyes sparkled warmly and Rodney kissed him tenderly, enjoying the loving response. One hand stroked over naked skin, drawing a moan of appreciation. This was about recharging John's batteries, calm the Kiowata, and reassure Rodney himself. Sex was optional, but those options looked pretty good right now. Having John like this, pushed up against a wall, able to access his neck and throat and lips and all, it was intoxicating and it was quite pleasing. Hearing him make those soft noises was a bonus.

<Rodney> Sheppard whispered, <I want more. Please…>

<You don't have to beg me for sex, though it does have a certain kinkiness>

John chuckled and wrapped his arms around Rodney, pulling him very close. "I do have fantasies," he whispered into one ear.

Rodney screwed his eyes shut. <Don't say that!>

John slid a hand under his shirt, running it over the smooth skin he found there. Rodney resumed kissing his lover, one hand buried in the dark hair, cupping the unruly head. The other arm was wrapped around the lean waist. Sheppard made a soft sound of pleasure when Rodney opened the link and let his own sensations wash over.

"I think we should move this somewhere else," Sheppard groaned. "Please?"

Rodney smiled, looking into the pleasure-filled hazel eyes. "This wasn't about sex, Colonel."

"I don't care!" <God, Rodney, I need you>

<Sexually starved much?>

<McKay!>

"All right, all right. I can take a hint. Genius, you know. But I don't want this to be a quick and dirty handjob."

"Me neither. I want to touch you, too. Can I?"

"You sound like a little kid," Rodney groaned.

"Puleaze?"

McKay pulled his lover over to the bed, Sheppard following eagerly.

 

* * *

 

Ezra had taken the time to get ‘acquainted’ with Atlantis. It was a fascinating city, though damaged and no longer as it had been ten thousand years before. Still, its innate beauty was there. He could see it and he could feel it. Chris had teased him that he was looking at this place like it was another possible target for his ‘skills’, but Ezra was far from wanting to steal anything.

He wanted to see and to feel Atlantis. He had never had this sensation of coming home, of belonging.

<It’s weird> Chris muttered.

His partner and lover sounded wary. He had become protective of Ezra in a way that had nothing to do with the Kiowata or being an Agent. It was this need to be close to Standish whenever they came here, as if Atlantis itself was a threat.

It wasn’t.

It was just… calm and peaceful and… there. Simply there.

<It’s not dangerous, Chris> Ezra said, repeating what he had told Larabee before. <According to Dr. Beckett it’s the gene reacting to the fact that Atlantis was built by our ancestors>

<I still don’t like it>

Of course not. Ezra turned to him and sent a hug, wrapping his presence around Chris in a tight hold, reassuring him he was fine and this was really okay.

"Mr. Standish?"

Ezra turned and raised his brows at McKay, who was walking toward him. "Yes?"

"I need your help. Come with me."

Ezra's brows rose even more as Rodney just turned and stalked off, clearly expecting him to follow. So he did, mystified. He trusted the man not to lead him into a trap. Not that he expected one anyway. These people had been more than simply helpful. McKay's men spent sleepless nights aboard the Chimera.

<Ezra?> Chris inquired.

<Nothing>

McKay stopped in front of what looked like a computer terminal. He turned to look at Ezra once more.

"You have the gene. Stronger than anyone on this expedition. Because of it Atlantis seems to recognize you as one of the founders of this city and I believe you have access to the more complex data bases and security installations."

Ezra blinked. "But I don't know anything about the codes and how to…"

Rodney stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I do. You just need to do what I tell you."

"Oh?" He knew he looked and sounded doubtful.

"Touch the console," Rodney challenged.

Ezra hesitated, then reached out and touched the computer console. It lit up and there seemed to be a strange hum at the edge of his perception.

"See!" McKay triumphed.

Everything seemed to be brighter around him, like a cocoon of warmth that welcomed Ezra into its fold. He blinked, feeling strange. Relaxed, actually. The empath was aware of a kind of presence, something recently woken, and it greeted him like he belonged here. Standish wasn't more than latent, able to use emotions he picked up to follow his trade. He had been a thief and con before he had run into Chris and now, working for the Agency, he still did undercover scams. Only more legal ones, catching the bad guys.

"Is Atlantis an artificial intelligence?" he asked as he studied the controls.

The symbols looked familiar. Where they came from, this language was still used, though it was a bit… ancient. He almost laughed at that. It was spoken, it was written, but ever since a standard language had developed over the thousands of years of intermingled cultures, it was nothing more than a local dialect, native to their home world and a few colonies.

Still, it was weird to see it here, to find out it was the language of an ancient culture that had seeded worlds throughout galaxies.

"Uhm," Rodney made, looking a bit perplexed. "Atlantis as such isn't really a sentient life form. It's a city, with computers and programs…"

"It feels… alive."

Rodney seemed flustered, but he quickly got it back under control. "I need you to find me whatever you can on possible experiments the Ancients performed before the Stargates were built."

"How?" Ezra asked.

Rodney shuffled closer with his chair and his fingers flew over the screen pointing out areas as he spoke and explained. Ezra followed the man's lead, fascinated by how easily he adapted to the system. The print on the screen was readable, though sometimes hard to understand due to the age of the language and his own background. Ezra hadn't been raised learning the old languages, but he had taught them to himself. Some worlds still used them for their databases, and as a thief it always paid to know your languages.

Like now.

But today he wasn't stealing, he was delving into a past he had never been aware of.

 

* * *

 

The database proved to be a bottomless fountain of information. Rodney was so excited, Sheppard was afraid he would have a heart attack. McKay was high as a kite on adrenaline and he was bouncing all over the place, at least through the mind-link. Ezra seemed to be the key to Atlantis in a way no one had ever been able to even imagine. The City accepted him like a master key and whatever he wanted to open, it was easily on display.

Rodney directed their visitor on where to store whatever he found. There was biological data, geography of the planet, maps and star charts, blue prints of all kinds of doohickeys and gadgets, and more.

<Do I have to be jealous now?> John asked.

Sheppard had long since retired to his quarters, but the connection was open and he was listening in.

<You're still top dog among us common folk> Rodney told him. <It's just that Ezra seems to be pure-blood Ancient material in comparison>

<I'm jealous>

McKay turned to the other presence and enveloped John in a gentle hug. <Don't be. He'll be gone one day and then you have no one to fear> he teased.

John sent a kiss, adding that he missed Rodney, but he understood what kept the physicist from joining him.

"He's feeling lonely?"

Standish's voice interrupted him and Rodney started almost guiltily. Ezra smiled.

"I know about mind-links, Dr. McKay. I told you. I know how it feels to be separated."

"Uhm, yeah, well…" Rodney shifted a little, feeling uncomfortable.

"It's something that will get less intense. And you'll get used to it."

"I'm used to the mind link," the physicist answered quietly, blue eyes serious. "And I like what we have, what we share."

"Good. He does need you, whatever he tells you. The tough guy act only masks the Kiowata's need."

Rodney snorted. "Believe me, I know it."

Ezra smirked. "Chris is military, through and through. He is an Agent, independent, tough, and proud. Needing me was hard for him to accept. Like it was hard for me to accept I was bound to him."

Rodney had the feeling that there was something Standish didn't tell him and he didn't pry. In a way he understood the feelings. Being bound to Sheppard on such an intimate level was… invasive. John was aware of him, and while he couldn't read his thoughts, he could be a presence in his mind.

"Things will get easier for you," Ezra added. "Separation won't be such a drain on either of you. Tell me, if Colonel Sheppard leaves through the Stargate, can you feel it negatively?"

"Uhm, so far there hasn't been a, well, real occasion."

Rodney remembered the five days spent with walls between them, in the beginning of their relationship, after their return from M7B-377. Because of the shields, neither had suffered because of Gate travel, but they had suffered because of a separation they had created themselves.

"Then try not to let it happen for now," Ezra advised. "Go with him. Otherwise it might be painful."

Rodney winced. "How painful?"

"I can only tell from my own experience. I tried cut the new connection between Chris and me once, and it was hell."

 

 

 _At this time of the day, the bar was almost empty, except for the town's regular drunks, and Ezra Standish. The thief took no notice of the men around him, except to size them up, categorize them, and discard them as no immediate danger to his person. The town he had sought refuge in was tiny, consisting of little more than a boarding house, a bar, some stores, and a hotel with a restaurant. He didn't mind the filthy appearance of it, the ever-present dust and backwater atmosphere. It was a place to lay low, to hide, to spend a few hours gambling, wiling away the day. It also fit his melancholic mood._

 _Ezra knew he was drunk. Not dead drunk, but enough to ignore the place in his mind where the bond was screaming at him. Enough to ignore the black hole that was just waiting for him to  stumble and fall. Half a bottle of the local rotgut had already found its way down into his empty stomach and he was planning to introduce the rest to his system as well. It would most likely knock him out, but that would at least give him a few hours of peace. The hangover would be hell, but even that was preferable to the constant ache. He had blown it, screwed up, made mistakes. He should have left this hell hole of a planet, but he hadn't. He should have fled, but he had only stumbled and fallen. Now he sat in a dusty bar, drinking himself to oblivion, and he knew things would only get worse soon. If he wasn't such a coward, he would have accepted the ultimate solution to his problems._

 _The bond seemed to scream louder, even through the alcoholic daze, and he forced it back out of his consciousness. It was getting increasingly more difficult to do so with every day. He prayed Chris didn't have the same problems, that the man was free, off the planet, with his friends. Looking into the mirror over the bar, Ezra caught his reflection and winced away at the man who looked back. He grabbed the bottle and quickly drank some more, the liquid burning in his throat. Slipping off the stool, he unsteadily went over to the table farthest away from the bar and the mirror._

 _A new arrival caught his attention. The man was tall, slender, with blond hair and intense dark eyes. He was dressed in black, wearing a long coat covered in the ever-present dust of the wilderness outside. The stranger looked around the room, apparently searching for someone._

 _Handler?_ _Ezra thought fuzzily. Law?_

 _There was a powerful aura around him, demanding his attention. Ezra shrunk back deeper into the shadows. He knew he was still a criminal; no amount of time spent alongside Chris, trying to right the wrong, be a hero, could change that. They had kicked off the small stone that had turned into an avalanche, but that didn't change Ezra. It didn't make him any less guilty of his past crimes than before. He was a thief, a cheat, a con man, and he would do it again in a heart beat to earn money and live the good life._

 _Except that now he heard echoes of Chris Larabee in his mind, telling him he could do better. Curse the man. Curse the bond. But Ezra couldn't take his eyes off the blond man, feeling something inside of him shiver. Shock coursed through him. What was going on here? Was he already losing it?_

 _But the yearning grew, the bond reacting painfully to the presence. It was time to get out of this establishment, hide in his room or the local livery, and then ride on. The black dressed man slowly crossed the floor of the bar room. Suddenly his head whipped around and he stared straight at Ezra. Standish shrunk back, he gaze penetrating the layers of alcohol for one clear moment and he felt the pain threaten to suffocate him. The intense eyes seemed to burn into his mind, the high-strung feeling increasing. The man walked over to his table, gazing at Ezra, then his eyes flickered over the by now almost empty bottle._

 _"Trying to kill yourself?"_

 _What is it to you?_ _Ezra thought blearily, trying to tear his eyes away from the darker ones. It was increasingly hard to hear his own thoughts over the noise in the back of his mind._

 _The man picked up the bottle, studied the label, then took a swig. He grimaced._

 _"Y're payin' fo' that," Ezra managed, voice slurred. He was more inebriated that he had thought._

 _"As will you, Ezra. This stuff tastes terrible."_

 _How did he know his name?_

 _The pressure behind his eyes multiplied. Shit, the alcohol was really getting to him._

 _"Leave me alone!" he snarled, pushing back his chair. Getting to his feet was difficult. He staggered past the blond and headed for the door._

 _< Ezra>_

 _One word. The bond sang in response to the mind-to-mind communication and Ezra felt almost dizzy. He had missed the presence; dearly. The whispers multiplied, but he violently shoved them into the box he had kept locked ever since he had returned to the Gateway station, ever since he had left Chris to his friends._

 _Inside him, everything was in turmoil. His mind was screaming at him to get away, that staying would be a bad idea. But his soul..._

 _Ezra fled out of the bar, but didn't get very far. The alcohol in his blood hit him full force and he fell against the wall, nauseous_

 _< Ezra>_

 _The voice again. So familiar it made him sob with need, but also the source of his pain._

 _"Leave me alone!" he demanded, pure panic rising up inside him. He found it suddenly hard to breathe as all those sensations washed over his body._

 _The blond man had followed him outside. Dark eyes gazed at him. Familiar. So familiar. Ezra had never known Chris's human look, only the Kiowata. Now he saw him for the first time and recognition hit him between the eyes. Taller than him, older by maybe ten years, not as compact as Standish's frame. There were lines in the sunburned face that spoke of pain and need, the eyes burning with something Ezra wanted himself, and he felt his own response. It cut deep into his already torn soul._

 _Chris approached the agitated thief and he stumbled back, almost as if fearing the other. Ezra shook in anger at Larabee's stubbornness and let the alcohol guide his actions. Their eyes met and emotions sparked wildly._

 _“Do you know what I went through because of you?” he spat. “Do you even realize what you did to me?”_

 _“Ezra….”_

 _Open fury crossed the pale features._

 _“I gave you everything! Everything! I have no idea why, but…. I nearly starved because of you! I was threatened, attacked and beaten! I suffered blinding headaches because you came down with a colic! I had to endure your temper tantrums, your high and mighty attitude! Your arrogance! You might think it was hard to have only me to talk to, but I had you in my head, Larabee! I still have!” The last words were uttered in near-hysteria. “Why don’t you go back to your world, Commander? Why don’t you finally leave me alone?”_

 _“Ezra, I can’t….” Chris said softly._

 _“The hell you can! Get on your ship, get out of my life!”_

 _“Not that easy.”_

 _“Easy?” He laughed maniacally. “It is easy. Just leave! Go away!” Ezra was almost blind with rage. He took a swing at the taller man, which, though surprising Chris, went rather wide. The blond caught the fist easily, strong fingers curling around it. "Go away," Ezra repeated pleadingly. “I don’t want this. I’m not different. Please… go….”_

 _< No> Chris answered, holding the desperate gaze. “You don’t know why you almost died for me, I don’t know why I can’t leave you here.” <You might not want it, but you have it, Ez>_

 _Ezra struggled feebly. Darkness crept at the edge of his vision and his mind was going into a fast decline of terror and abject misery._

 _< Fool> he whispered, then his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed. Chris caught him easily._

 _* * *_

 _He woke to a tremendous headache. His tongue felt like cotton wool, and if it had grown in size. Pain pulsed behind his eyes, soon joined by the sickness spreading from his stomach. Fragments of memories came back. Getting dead drunk in a bar. Ezra groaned and rolled onto his side, his stomach heaving. He clenched his teeth, refusing to give in to the need to throw up. It was undignifying._

 _Something wonderfully cold was placed into his neck, spreading through his cramped muscles, and he gave a little sigh. A hand started to massage his shoulders, loosening tight coils. He tried to attach a name to the gentle touch, but failed._

 _A faint hum in the back of his mind announced the reawakening bond as it fought through the alcoholic haze. And with it, the presence close to him grew familiar. Ezra's eyes snapped open and he immediately shut them again. The light lancing through his eyes was extremely painful. The hands rubbed a soothing pattern on his back._

 _"Go away," he moaned weakly. "The bond is no more. Leave!"_

 _< Liar> Chris retorted._

 _Ezra shivered at the mind-touch. Why did Larabee have to do this? It was like a nameless terror waiting for him to falter, it was his worst nightmare. Ever since a childhood experience had confirmed that he was Borderline, ever since he had known he had defective genes, he had been afraid of the developing powers. Yes, they had helped him. They made him such a good con, but in the end, when all was stripped away, they were nothing but trouble. He had successfully pushed it all away while he and Chris had been together, trying to find a way off this world. He had hoped, prayed, that the bond would die with Chris’s transformation back into a human._

 _"Chris.... please... don’t."_

 _"Why did you run?"_

 _It was the first time he consciously heard Chris's human voice. It was a dark, smooth, with a few rough edges. The bond sang softly, pushing Ezra into turning his head. He gazed at the dark-clad man._

 _"I didn't," he mumbled._

 _"You didn't say good-bye. You just left."_

 _Standish swallowed. Chris's hands never ceased their gentle massage. Each movement eradicated more and more of his defenses, the walls he had so desperately sought to rebuild._

 _< The bond didn't break. We still have it. I can feel it, right now. It's painful> Larabee murmured._

 _Ezra evaded the dark eyes, trying to gather his defenses back around him. "It will break with time and distance."_

 _< I don't think so. It will destroy us if we try. It will kill us in the end. I want to live, Ezra. I want you to live. We have to heal the bond. We can't run from it>_

 _Standish looked up, desperation on his features. "How... how can you accept this.... abhorring link? You! You should be freaked beyond words! Running from it!"_

 _"Maybe I should, yes," Chris conceded. "But it's not abhorring, Ezra. I can accept it as it is. Took me a while, granted, but I had to work with it because the link was the only way for me to communicate. I accepted you as the receiving end."_

 _Ezra turned away again, but Chris's hands stayed on his shoulders._

 _"I lived with you in my mind for months, Ezra. I was freaked, yes. Completely. But," Chris searched for words, "it started to feel right, like you were a missing part I had just found."_

 _Ezra clawed for some sanity. The daze he was in was cut by the shrill demands of the bond, which he was trying to ignore. The alcohol couldn't numb it anymore. What had happened to him... to them? Why did he feel so lost and alone in a dark and threatening world?_

 _"I'm Borderline," he whispered miserably. "I'm not a missing part... I'm a superfluous one."_

 _< No, you're not> Chris insisted, voice suddenly harsh. <And you're not alone any more>_

 _"What?" he whispered._

 _"Nathan said I changed throughout the whole experience. My molecular make-up is different. He thinks I retained some of the Kiowata abilities. It's one of the side-effects. I might even be able to shift, just like you." Chris shrugged. "I haven't really tried it yet, but the knowledge is there. The feeling of something else lurking in me...."_

 _"You can't mean to stay like this!" Ezra protested._

 _"Why not?"_

 _Ezra sought for words. "It's not right," he finally said weakly._

 _Chris chuckled. "Right or not, it's of little difference." He leaned closer, fixing the smaller man with his intense gaze. "Will you come with me?"_

 _There was a sharp intake of breath. Ezra stared at him. "You can't be serious, Larabee!" he finally snapped. "Off this planet I'm.... I'm.... nothing but a petty thief! A criminal! The very people you hunt down!" His voice rose to almost hysterical level._

 _"Ezra," Chris silenced him. "We need each other."_

 _Standish violently shook his head and regretted it immediately as the headache roared back. He clenched his teeth against the pain and nausea, concentrating on the man close by. "No! I need to get off this rock, you need to get back to your Agency. That's all we need."_

 _Larabee sighed. "I wish it was that simple."_

 _Ezra thought furiously. He wanted to get off this hell hole of a planet, but not with Chris around, not this close. If not for the bond, he would gladly have taken the chance for a ride, then left at the next best space port they docked at._

 _He sat, shoulders hunched as though all the will had been beaten out of him. Exhausted with the inner struggle. Chris stepped behind him and placed his hands gently on shoulders too tense to soothe, but he tried. He sent a gentle warmth through the connection into the taut frame. Then he began to knead in earnest. After a moment he felt the younger man relax a bit, muscles beginning to unclench as he worked over the back. It was amazing, Ezra thought, how much he reacted to the blond._

 _"Ez?"_

 _The soft question made Standish look up and he shivered at the mild sparks of emotions in the hazel eyes. Chris would drag him back kicking and screaming, he realized. So he would come quietly, maybe even accept the offer to leave the planet, and then slip away in secrecy. It was the only way. For both of them._

 _"Okay," he said, composing himself._

 _“Promise me you won’t run again.”_

 _The green eyes held a shocked expression, growing more and more distant, and Chris saw the battle in them. Finally, Ezra surrendered. He nodded wordlessly._

 _Chris smiled, but it lacked the triumph Ezra had expected. Familiarity hit him, longing, need. He squelched it. It would never be. The bond couldn't be completed as it should. The moment they were away, he would run again._

 

“Did you?” Rodney asked, looking sober. “Run?”

“In a way. The flight from the planet to the Four Corners space station was a nightmare,” Ezra answered softly. “I didn’t want to burden Chris with this, didn’t want this myself, but everything inside me screamed that he was the only one for me. Back then we weren’t sexually involved. That happened much later.” He smiled a little. “You and Colonel Sheppard are going into this a lot faster than we did.”

“Uh… Yes… Well…”

“Which isn’t bad. What happened to you is a mild version of what Chris and I faced. There’s no guarantee how such a bond develops and what will happen to the partners because of their lives and jobs. You live as dangerously as Chris and I do.”

Rodney nodded, looking a bit pinched, especially about the living dangerously part.

He wordlessly turned back to the computer, a bit paler than before. Ezra followed his lead and they dove back into the database, extracting as much information as was possible. As long as Atlantis was willing to let them into protected areas, Rodney would use this lucky strike.

In the back of his mind he felt John's continued presence, but he didn't actively acknowledge him. He loved him, he would protect him, and if John needed him, Rodney would be there. Right now he didn't feel that need, only curiosity, and that had to wait.

 

* * *

 

John was still up and reading a book when Rodney walked into his quarters. He was stretched out on their shared bed, a much larger bed than before. How Sheppard had found and gotten it here, Rodney had never dared to ask. He was just glad for the comfort it brought.

"Hey. I thought you'd be asleep by now," McKay remarked.

It was way past midnight and if it hadn't been for Ezra muttering about needing sleep, Rodney would still be browsing the database.

"And you're still awake."

"Observant as ever." Rodney changed into the t-shirt and shorts he slept in, brushed his teeth, and got into bed.

Sheppard put the book aside and leaned over, stealing a kiss. There was something on his lover's mind. Rodney could feel it.

<John?> he probed.

He got another, much deeper kiss, hands sliding over his chest and side. Rodney caught the wandering hands and trapped them, leaning over the smirking man.

"Don't try change the subject, Colonel," he growled.

"I'm not."

"Right. So not true."

<Rodney…>

<Wheedling won't help>

<I don't wheedle!>

Rodney smirked, then grew serious again. "Are you okay?"

"Worried?"

"Always."

Sheppard's face changed, the lines softening, and the brown eyes held a warm expression.

"You don't have to be."

<Tell that to my illogical side> Rodney murmured and gave his lover a soft kiss. <I do worry. Could do without, but what Standish said…>

<Not going through the Gate without you>

<What if we're separated? It happened before>

Before they had bonded, connected, linked. Before there was the real danger of going insane or losing oneself in the pain because of separation. For now, while the bond developed, they were vulnerable.

Rodney's expression was dead serious now. <I won't leave you alone, John>

<Rodney…>

<I won't>

He knew it was the truth. The imperative to run to safety, to get through the Gate, was suddenly no longer there. He would stay with his partner, he would protect John in any way he could.

John stared at him in shock and comprehension of what Rodney was projecting. He closed his eyes, drawing shaky breaths, and McKay pulled him into his arms. They lay together, Rodney running his hands over the slender back as John held on to him.

They dozed off into sleep like this. It felt nice. It was really, really good.

 

* * *

 

Rodney was thrumming with excitement, barely able to stay still. He was standing in front of a very attentive audience, consisting of the seven stranded visitors, Elizabeth, Ronon, Teyla, Zelenka, Beckett, and of course John.

"We know the Ancients must have run experiments before they managed to get the first active Stargate up and running," he told his listeners. "They didn't just come across one like the Goa'uld did, stealing the technology. They were scientists and researchers. So how can you come up with a principle like the Gates?"

He smiled at them, triumphant and almost giddy.

"Easy. You have a natural phenomenon and you try to copy what it did."

"What natural phenomenon?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"At first there were the studies of wormholes. The Ancients possessed what we today call a hyperdrive. They traveled, but like today, it took time. Now, the Stargate is essentially an enormous superconductor, capable of harnessing power from a wide variety of energy sources, especially electricity. The very idea of them is to tame and manage a wormhole. Wormholes are natural phenomena and what the Ancients did with the Stargates was artificially create them at will."

Rodney started to draw something on the whiteboard, scribbling numbers and equations.

"Mr. Standish helped me unearth a very old file from the Ancient database. I believe we would have found it eventually, but not quickly enough."

Rodney nodded at Ezra, who smiled briefly.

"What we found were tons of logs on their early work on Stargates and what happened back then to cut off a whole galaxy from the Gate network. Actually, it was really just dumb luck that gate travel was discovered. The Ancients were experimenting with how to open a wormhole when something went wrong in their equations and they punched a hole into space, so to speak. They established what we today would call a Stargate by accident, and had access to the galaxy our visitors came from."

Rodney looked into stunned, surprised and shocked faces. He smirked.

"There's sadly no mention of what happened exactly. The equations are lost, but the few logs from the time that survived and are accessible tell us a little. The earliest form of a Stargate wasn't a circular structure. It was more or less a couple of stabilizers that kept the portal open, and they sent exploration vessels through."

"How big was this portal?" Weir asked, stunned.

"About the size of an Ori Supergate," McKay replied. "Only a lot less stable. The stabilizers were there for a reason and they used up a tremendous amount of energy to keep the doorway open. Most of their research went into the Gates from then on. Ships were deployed into this new galaxy and that's how the ancestors of Mr. Larabee and his team got there. Ancients built outposts, whole cities, intermingled with the population they found there. It's what happened everywhere, just that this was their first foray into a whole new world."

"What happened?" Beckett wanted to know.

"They ran out of power," Rodney simply answered. "Not right away, but within a few decades it was too hard to keep the wormhole tamed by their then rather primitive means. Think about it! They kept this portal open for decades! Today we have thirty-eight minutes.  Eventually, everything broke down and the portal collapsed.

"So their people on the other side were cut off," Teyla said softly.

 "Yes. There was no way of reaching them with conventional means and Stargates were still on the drawing board. It took the Ancients a very long time after that to really come up with a viable solution to their problems, and when they did start building Gates, their lost people couldn't be retrieved any more."

Silence descended. Finally Elizabeth sought out Rodney, her eyes reflecting the sorrow and the shock.

"What about Commander Larabee and his team? How can we get them home with this knowledge?"

"Well, we know the portal is about the same the Ancients encountered, though I believe it was established from the other side. It doesn't matter since such portals aren't one-way like Stargates. It might be why they eat up so much energy when someone tries to stabilize them."

Rodney keyed in a command and the projector in the table displayed what looked like blueprints.

"These are the plans for the stabilizers the Ancients used back then. They're enough to tame the portal for a while, but we neither have the materials to build them, nor the time needed, or the energy to spare. One of those things alone uses the energy equaling two ZedPMs within a day."

Zelenka nodded, studying the plans. "We don't have the materials, and time is running out for the portal. It will close sooner or later."

"So we're trapped?" Larabee spoke up.

"No. Not at all. We just have to spice up your shields to withstand the forces working within the portal so it doesn't tear you apart," Rodney answered.

"Would be much appreciated," Wilmington muttered. "I'd like to get back in one piece."

"How long would you need, Rodney?"

McKay looked at Zelenka. The engineer shrugged.

"I have very good idea of their shields and with Mr. Sanchez's help I believe we can modify the shields to greater capacity within the next twenty-four hours."

Rodney's expression was serious. "And we have to. The portal is growing smaller. It's still huge, but it's shrinking, and each day we lose gives us less space to maneuver."

"What size are we talking about?" JD wanted to know.

"Right now? Twice the wing span of the Chimera. Within the next twenty-four hours, with the current rate of decrease, you'll have about thirty percent less. If you launch within the next three days, you should have enough maneuvering space that you get about twenty feet between the widest area of the Chimera and the edges of the portal."

JD looked thoughtful, chewing his lower lip. "I've taken her through worse and narrower spaces, but the portal is unstable, you say. How much turbulence can I expect?"

Rodney called up a new image of the portal and there was a miniature vortex in its center. "Lots," he answered quietly. "The smaller it gets, the more it collapses into itself. There will be heavy turbulence. If the shields withstand the primary entry phase into the portal, they'll form a protective bubble around the Chimera. She'll be like a rubber ball, with you in control."

Another silence, then JD looked at Chris. "I think I can manage it. It'll be a rough ride and we better buckle down whatever isn't so far, but I believe I can get us inside and through."

Larabee gave a brisk nod. "Good enough for me. Josiah?"

"Dr. Zelenka and I will start right away," Sanchez replied.

Weir gazed at the determined faces and rose. "Very well, gentlemen. Let's get started."

 

 

<John?>

Sheppard was at Rodney's side, briefly glancing at him as they walked out of the conference room. Both men fell in step and headed for the labs, the others dispersing to wherever they had to go. Larabee and his team would be flown back to the Chimera, accompanied by Zelenka when he had all he needed from his lab.

<This will be bad the next forty-eight hours> Rodney said softly. <I'll be there non-stop>

<I understand>

McKay walked into his deserted lab and Sheppard thought the order to shut the door, then kissed him deeply.

"I'll manage," he whispered. "Don't worry."

Blue eyes reflected just that worry. "You could come along. Stretch your legs," he suggested.

John sighed softly, giving in to his need for closeness. Rodney wrapped his arms around him, giving that closeness.

"Maybe," he murmured. "I'll think about it."

They stayed in the lab for a few more minutes, kissing and touching, reloading Sheppard's batteries.

"Can you really feel Atlantis?" Rodney asked after a moment, hands running over the dark-clad sides of his lover.

Sheppard sighed explosively and was about to step back, but Rodney wouldn't let him. Blue eyes held a serious look.

"John?"

"It's… it's not sentient. It's not alive. It's just there," he muttered, sounding almost defensive. "I can feel it, like a hum in the back of my mind. It's not bad… it's just… I know there's something."

"All the time?"

"Most of the time. When Standish came here, it was like an explosion of sensations. Now it's normal."

This time, when he drew back, Rodney let him, feeling the need to pace in Sheppard. And so he did.

"You don't feel it?" John asked after a moment.

"No. I'm not a natural gene carrier, and those of the others that are, they're a lot weaker than you. Aside from Standish, you're the strongest."

Sheppard nodded, very much aware of it.

"You want me to touch something?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Rodney smiled seductively. "I can think of something I'd like you to touch."

"Ow, bad, Rodney. Very bad."

That had McKay smile more. "You asked."

"Yeah. Should have known."

Rodney drifted over to the slender form and gently touched the small of his back, drawing a loving pattern. He felt John relax and they turned to each other, kissing softly.

 

* * *

 

Rodney hadn't been wrong. He had been all too right. For the next two days he was barely seen in Atlantis and when he was there, it was to get something or other, then fly back to the Chimera again. Those occasions were far and few. Sheppard busied himself with the military contingent of the expedition, going through old files, new files, sorting files, stacking files, reading files, and when there was still time left, he sat in on training sessions, or had one himself.

It kept him occupied.

For Rodney, the separation was just as much a strain, but he was hip-deep in shield generators and reprogramming a computer that was quasi-Ancient. JD and Josiah were in their element, as were McKay and Zelenka. Everyone else was assisting where they could.

 

 

Ezra found Colonel Sheppard on one of the piers, gazing out over the ocean. He approached carefully, made his presence known, and the hazel eyes that reminded him a lot of Chris's narrowed a little.

"Yes?" Sheppard asked, voice controlled.

"I believe it would be best if you went to the mainland," Ezra simply said. "It would help you and the Kiowata."

"I can't just go running around as a horse," was the reply.

"You can because you need to. You and Dr. McKay are still in a very crucial phase of your connection. You've been together for six months and it takes up to a year to establish a stable bond. Colonel, please listen to your needs."

Sheppard exhaled explosively.

Ezra stayed where he was, waiting. He was very much aware of the troubled mind, even though his latent empathy didn't allow for reading emotions as clearly as a full empath would be able to. But he had experience and he knew what Chris had gone through. Both were military, both were leaders, both were stubborn and strong, but Chris had been forced to remain a Kiowata for a year, completing the link between them – though they hadn't been aware of it back then. Sheppard was making his own life harder all by himself.

"Do you love him?" Ezra asked out of the blue.

Sheppard's eyes narrowed and his face became even harder. "What?"

"You understood. Do you love him?"

"Why do you ask?"

Ezra sighed. "If you keep answering a question with a question, we'll be here for a while."

Sheppard smirked, then grew serious again. "Yes, I love him. It's not because of the bond between us, before you ask that question. I liked him a lot before, was attracted to him, but this kinda… triggered the rest. I need Rodney, I know that. I need him very much and it scares me."

"That's natural. You're not the type to rely on emotional bonds to others."

"What are you? A psychologist?"

Ezra grinned. "No. I know Chris. We've been together for years now and he's not much different from you."

Sheppard harrumphed.

"And he had to learn all you are learning, too. It didn't kill him. You already give in to the need to be close to your partner. Why not accept it now?"

"Rodney's busy. Getting your ship ready." Sheppard gave him a pointed look. "I'm not going to hang around like a love-sick puppy."

"I didn't say 'cling to his sleeve', Colonel. Just go to the mainland, use the time to work on your new ability." He was silent for a moment, then added, "If you want, I'll be there."

That got Ezra a narrow-eyed look.

"It's just an offer."

But Sheppard accepted it, much to the thief's surprise. They were on their way in a Puddlejumper half an hour later.

 

* * *

 

Rodney had been aware of his lover's presence on the mainland, but he had been too busy to pay much attention. When he got the first whiff of excitement he paused in double-checking one of the components again and reached along the mind-link, surprised to discover that Sheppard had shape-shifted. Rodney could clearly tell apart his human form and the Kiowata by now.

Curious, he left the Chimera and nodded at the Marines keeping an eye on things.

"Dr. McKay?" Lorne called.

"Stretching my legs," he only said distractedly. "You go on doing whatever you're doing."

Lorne's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. The mainland was safe, there were no natural predators, and aside from the Chimera's crew there was no alien activity.

Rodney walked for a while, following his instinct as to where John was. He didn't know exactly how it worked, but he was almost magically drawn into the right direction. He found the Kiowata not much later. John looked happy as he galloped easily across the wide open field, and Ezra was watching. It was amazing to see Sheppard like this, so powerful, so strong, so at ease and so… free. There was no other word for it. It was what he felt over the mind-link as well.

Rodney smiled softly, the lines of stress of the last few days easing. He settled against a large boulder and simply watched, didn't want to interrupt, and there was a kind of pride in him that Sheppard could be so at ease with his Kiowata form.

There was a sudden snort and Rodney turned his head.

"Good god!" he exclaimed and scrambled backwards, the sight more than fear-inspiring at first glance.

A large, black Kiowata, midnight black actually, with those gleaming horns in the same color stood next to him. It was power and strength, like John, but so much taller, and from Rodney's vantage point gigantic with hooves the size of dinner plates, sharp and dangerous, and Rodney reacted on instinct.

His sudden surge of terror had unexpected effects.

There was a shrill, angry whinny.

He got a surge of territorial instinct, of fury, of outrage, all animalistic and not very human at all. Rodney gasped as he saw John charge toward where he was sitting on the ground and McKay instinctively curled up as the dark brown Kiowata whinnied again and reared, the dangerous sharp-edged hooves just inches away from him.

Intruder, his mind translated what was coming through. Mine. My territory. Intruder! Challenge.

Ah hell! was all he could think clearly.

 

 

Chris hadn't intended to scare McKay when he had made his presence known. Like John Sheppard he had given in to his need to free the Kiowata, but he had explored a little, giving Ezra time with Sheppard to get used to his four-legged form. When he had discovered Rodney, had seen the soft smile on the other man's lips, he had decided to come forward and make himself known.

It had been a mistake.

Startled, fear surging in him, McKay had probably flooded all that toward Sheppard, and the Kiowata had reacted on instinct. This wasn't just a stallion protecting his mate. It was also a stallion defending his territory against another, equally powerful alpha male. While Ezra was recognized as non-aggressive and not dangerous by the instinctual side in Sheppard, Chris was another matter.

Prancing angrily, John threw back his head, nostrils wide, ears flat on his head. He almost growled, baring his impressive teeth. Kiowata had sharp canines and even though they were herbivores, those teeth easily tore flesh off bone.

<Chris!>

<Stay back. He's instinctual. I made the mistake, not him>

Chris stayed perfectly still, non-aggressive, slightly submissive. He didn't surrender his status, but he made clear he wasn't here to challenge.

McKay was slowly getting to his feet, shaking, pale, eyes wide, but he was holding himself remarkably well.

"John?" he said hoarsely.

The Kiowata snorted, sounding still angry, and from all signs and body language, he was still waiting for Chris to attack. Larabee slowly stepped back, still demure to a degree, and slowly the tension left the dark brown Kiowata in front of him.

Ezra was approaching carefully, giving Sheppard a wide berth, and came up beside Chris.

<He's calming down> Chris said carefully. <He felt threatened by my presence and he felt McKay's surprise and fear of me>

"Dr. McKay?" Ezra said softly. "Is he himself or still the Kiowata?"

"Uh, calming, yes, well, more himself," Rodney stuttered.

"Keep him anchored. This is the stallion in him, defending his territory and you."

Rodney swallowed and looked at Sheppard, whose ears were by now pricked again. Suddenly he snorted and walked over to the physicist, nuzzling the startled man. Rodney reached up automatically and rubbed the jaw.

Chris felt himself relax as well. The situation was becoming less volatile and when he moved back further, John just watched him with pricked ears and only a sliver of wariness. Finally he turned and walked away, back to where he had hidden his clothes. Sheppard only kept an eye on him, head held high. It wasn't a triumphant gestures, only one of watchfulness.

 

 

Rodney wasn't even aware of how close he stood to John until the warmth underneath his touch moved a little and he was nuzzled again.

<John?>

<Back> was the faint reply. <Damn. What a rush>

He stared at the Kiowata in disbelief. <Rush? You just about started a fight with Larabee!>

<I… I don't know why. I felt your fear and then I saw him and everything after that became a haze>

Rodney rubbed the neck and jaw, finally wrapping his arms around the large head in a hug. They had done this before and it came closest to an embrace. McKay had never felt self-conscious about this gesture and he trusted in John not to hurt him with the horns.

When they finally parted, he became aware of Standish watching them calmly. John snorted a little, shifting his weight.

"Dr. McKay?"

"Colonel Sheppard's in control," Rodney answered.

"Good. I think we should end this exercise for today."

John cringed a little. Ezra read the Kiowata's mimic correctly and gave him a smile.

"It was a natural reaction to a threat from another stallion, Colonel Sheppard. Chris was an intruder and you acted accordingly. You weren't at fault."

<Where are your clothes?> Rodney asked.

<Further down. I, ah, go and change>

McKay patted the broad shoulder, smiling. <I need to get back to the Chimera. You good?>

They were both shaky, rattled, but Rodney didn't want to stay any longer than necessary or Lorne would come looking. John got all that through the mind-link and brushed his velvety nose over Rodney's cheek.

<Later>

It was a promise and it was a question in one.

Rodney nodded. "Later," he said softly.

And then he started to walk back, knees like jelly but getting stronger. He took a deep breath and forcefully calmed himself down. John remained a strong presence with him, protective and worried and apologetic.

 

* * *

 

Everything that could be done had been done. Josiah and Radek agreed that the engines were ship-shape, working like a dream, and Rodney and JD had run the computer through so many simulations, McKay didn't know what else to throw at the hybrid systems any more. If anything blew now, he had no idea why.

The first test flight was set for the day after the last tests had been done. The Chimera would lift off, go through several test patterns and land on the North Pier. Only the Agency crew would be aboard, though Sheppard would have loved to be there.

"Okay, here we go!" JD called. "Atlantis, this is the Chimera. We're ready for our test flight."

"Roger, Chimera. We have you on our screens."

JD nodded almost to himself. He sat strapped into the pilot chair, eyes on the displays, and everything looked good so far. He fired the engines. A low, steady hum could be heard as the thrusters warmed up.

He glanced at Chris, who only gave him a brisk nod to proceed at his own speed. JD flicked some control switches and the low hum slowly increased into a full, deep roar. The frame of the Chimera shuddered as she lifted off, a natural behavior for the ship as it worked off the stress it was put under through the lift off procedure.

"Clearing ground area, adjusting course to preset coordinates."

Everyone was tense, waiting, but JD maneuvered the Agency ship safely up into the atmosphere, then into space. The Chimera described a graceful arc and he adjusted the speed.

"Looking good," Josiah reported. "All systems are stable. JD, take her through the atmosphere, put her under more strain."

"Will do. Hold on, everyone."

And the ship went into a dive. The inertial dampeners took the brunt of the fast descent, but the Chimera herself was showing the strain she was under through the readings. Still, everything held.

Josiah leaned over his screen. "Holding on okay. Engine temp's fine."

"JD, take her toward Atlantis," Larabee ordered.

"Roger that. Atlantis, this is Chimera. We're coming in. Everything looks a-okay."

"We hear you. Welcome to Atlantis."

JD brought her around and gracefully settled the dark blue ship on the pier.

 

* * *

 

The Chimera sat on the North Pier like a midnight blue alien fish. Elizabeth had to confess that she looked strangely beautiful, even if she lacked a certain sleekness. She wasn't a battle ship, had been constructed for long-distance flights, and to be utilitarian. She had landed here after her first test flight and according to a very excited Rodney, things were looking very good. What didn't look good was their time window. The portal was closing fast and Radek was still not happy with the shield generators.

Elizabeth sighed softly.

She hoped things would go well for everyone involved.

 

* * *

 

John was itching to get his fingers on the Chimera's flight controls. Ever since he had seen her fly, he wanted to be the one to take her for a little spin.

<You're like a little kid> Rodney scolded him. <And children don't always get what they want>

<I already talked to Larabee. He said he'd let me have a go at it with JD as my co-pilot>

Rodney looked up from his project – testing the shield generators for strain and pressure cracks – and scowled.

"When?" he only asked.

"Sometime this afternoon." John was bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was actually grinning from ear to ear.

"We have shield generators to test!"

"You have shield generators to test, not me. And you do it in the lab. JD wants to run the Chimera a little, see how she holds up after the multitude of knitting and mending."

The scowl deepened, then Rodney turned back to the test program, muttering to himself. Sheppard smiled and sent a hug, then left the lab, almost whistling to himself. Rodney, still bent over his computer, smiled fondly.

 

* * *

 

"She handles like a dream!" John said excitedly. "She's big, but she's not sluggish, and she packs quite a punch. Her acceleration is amazing!"

"You're drooling," Rodney remarked dryly.

Sheppard just grinned at him, hazel eyes alight, adrenaline still in his system. He was dressed in his flight gear, even though he hadn't needed it aboard the Agency ship. JD had run him through the pre-flight check, then let him take her off the pier all on his own.

"I didn't even have to steer very hard! One little tug and away she goes!"

"Like a certain someone I know," Rodney muttered, scowling at the readings.

Sheppard apparently hadn't heard. "Granted, she's not a ship designed for atmospheric flight, but once in space, it's so cool!"

"Space is cold. It's a physics fact. No air, no warmth."

"We actually got close to the portal, but there wasn't much of a problem."

Rodney's head shot up at that. "You what?!" he exclaimed.

"We flew by the portal. I got you some readings." Sheppard smiled as if he was talking about a birthday gift.

"You must have a death wish!" McKay snapped. "It's dangerous!"

"Not at this distance."

"Who's the physicist in this relationship? What if the forces within the portal had pulled you in? What if we had miscalculated and there are eddies and whirls outside the immediate portal area?" Rodney demanded, voice rising. "You could have been sucked in and ended up god knows where!"

"I'm fine, Rodney. Nothing happened."

Blue eyes flared with indignation, with anger, with fear, and with something Rodney couldn't express in words. It was something deeply lodged inside him ever since they had come together on M7B-377.

"It could have, you thoughtless moron! It's not funny to play around an unstable, unknown and unexplored wormhole that is actually a portal into a whole new galaxy! A galaxy we can't reach by conventional means! You would have been lost!"

A tremor went through him and Rodney fought to control his emotions. But they had a mind of their own, and they were fed by his imagination and fear. He had a very vivid imagination. He could think of many ways how someone could die out here, mostly through hungry, life-sucking aliens. For Sheppard to skid so close to a wormhole they knew nothing about…

John would have been gone, trapped in Larabee's world as Larabee was currently here. There was no telling if the other side could create a wormhole back here, or if this one would be open long enough for the Chimera to make a return trip.

Oh god…

Sheppard closed the distance and ran a calming hand up Rodney's arm to his shoulder, pressing close.

<Rodney> he murmured soothingly.

His breathing hitched once and he fought hard not to lose it. No freaking, he told himself. Not now. Handle it like on the planet. Keep it together, McKay. Keep it together!

<You're allowed to freak, too> John whispered.

<I am. Freaking. Lots of freaking> he answered shakily. <Frequently>

<On your own? In your room?>

Rodney closed his eyes, unable to fight it much longer. He had once lost it, broken down, in his room. He had never lost a word about it and he knew his lover was aware of it. Rodney would never have thought he was capable of such iron control, but he was. He had to.

Sheppard was close, a warm presence that soothed him, and when his lover buried his face against Rodney's neck, McKay gave a little whimper.

<Can't lose you> he managed.

<Won't. Sorry. Thoughtless of me. Sorry>

Rodney didn't – couldn't – reply. He just held on and let his body go through the tremors.

John kissed his neck, his temple, his lips.

<You're allowed to freak. I'm here> he whispered, reading his lover's embarrassment. <I wouldn't risk my life like that>

<You would> Rodney snapped, anger and fear in his voice. <You do it all the time on missions>

<It's my job. Our job. You've been in danger just as many times. It's something we have to live with. It's something Chris and Ezra live with>

<I don't care about them! I care about you!>

Sheppard smiled warmly. "I love you, too."

They held each other, drawing strength from the other's presence, and Rodney finally sighed softly.

<Thanks>

<You're very welcome>

<Gonna fly again?>

<No. I'm good. It was fun, though> John let his excitement leak through again.

<Hot jock> Rodney teased. His hands were drawing random patterns that reminded Sheppard of Rodney patting the Kiowata. It was strangely… nice.

<Supergeek>

McKay drew away, smirking. <Supergenius>

<Don't push it>

With a last kiss, they separated and Rodney turned back to his work.

<Shoo> he muttered over the link when John peered over his shoulder.

<Going, going>

And he did. Still feeling very good, the link humming, and while he kept an extra eye on Rodney, he wasn't worried about another freaking. His lover was entitled to let go of his emotions. He had been the stronger of them for so long, had always held back because of John, and the fear was just another expression of how much Rodney cared.

Sheppard whistled to himself.

It felt good to be loved by Rodney McKay. Very, very good.

 

* * *

 

Saying good-bye had never been one of Rodney's strong points. He hated the emotions involved. He would rather just not go somewhere to shake hands for the last time or be hugged. This time he was there, though. The whole Chimera team was there, shaking hands, talking to the men and women who had spent the last two weeks bent over engines, computers and whatnot to get the ship flying again.

Ezra was talking to Sheppard, smiling, nodding, then the two men shook hands. Rodney couldn't say he either liked or disliked the Agent. He tolerated him like he did so many, but Standish had proven to be a great help when it came to John's Kiowata side.

"Dr. McKay," he now greeted him.

"Mr. Standish."

"Take care of John. You'll have a little bit further to go."

Rodney didn't need to be reminded of that. There had been many ups and downs already, and there would be more. They had fought them all. They had won.

"You're his life-line," Ezra added. "He relies on you, like you rely on him. Don't let him run."

"I won't," he said softly.

Standish gave him a smile and nodded. "Your bond will be strong, Dr. McKay. It already is. The leaps you have made are astounding. It took Chris and me a lot longer to discover that we can feel more than just emotions over the bond, that we can influence the other – in a positive way," he added.

"Yes, well, uh, we did that…" Rodney evaded quickly. "Been there, done that."

"There are drawbacks as well."

McKay made a quick, dismissive gesture. "Yes, yes, we talked about it. Please, don't spoil this special moment by talking pain and separation."

Ezra gave him a long look. "I won't."

"Good. Now…" Rodney looked around. "I…ah… should be up in the control room. Yes. Needed there. Have a good flight. Write if you can."

And with that he was gone. He hated good-byes and part of him hated losing someone who had a much better grasp on this whole mind-link thing.

<We'll manage> John said soothingly.

Rodney looked around and found the other man in conversation with Larabee.

<Don't do that!> he snapped.

<What?>

<Spy!>

<I'm not. You're leaking>

Rodney prayed for patience and stalked up to the command center where Elizabeth was watching it all. When Larabee came up, too, she shook his hand.

"Commander Larabee, it was a pleasure. We learned a lot from you and I hope it was as pleasant for you."

"It was, Dr. Weir. We wouldn't have managed to get the Chimera flying without your help." He nodded at Rodney. "Dr. McKay. I wish you the best."

Rodney shifted uncomfortably, muttering something. Sheppard was next to him, not touching but still in so very close contact. Chris smiled more, then turned and walked down the stairs again. John exchanged a quick look with Rodney.

<I'll accompany them to the North Pier>

<I know. Go. I'll watch from here>

And they were gone, filing out of the Gateroom and using the transporter to get to the Chimera's parking spot.

Rodney drew a deep breath, then turned to his station. Elizabeth watched him, a small smile on her lips.

 

*

 

John had accompanied the seven men back to their ship. Lorne and five Marines had come along, and they stopped at the large gateway that led onto the North Pier. Sheppard continued until they were at the ramp. All but Chris and Ezra were aboard and the blond turned, looking seriously at John.

"You and your people did a great job, Colonel. I wish you and Dr. McKay the best. I hope we could help you at least a little bit."

"You could," John replied seriously. "We figured some of it out already, but I think this'll help."

"Dr. Beckett knows everything Nathan does. Trust him when there is a problem."

"Already do."

They shook hands and Larabee nodded briskly, then walked up the ramp, Ezra at his side. John waited until the ramp started to close, then he walked back to where Lorne was waiting.

 

*

 

The tension was almost palpable. Rodney was at one of the stations of the command center, eyes glued to the screen. Zelenka was at his side, his laptop open, just as tense.

"Atlantis," Larabee's voice could be heard, "we're ready."

"Chimera, this is Atlantis," Elizabeth replied, her voice tight. "Good luck."

"Thank you again, Dr. Weir. For everything."

And then the Chimera started to lift off. Graceful, slow, without a problem. The ship flew a circle around Atlantis, then shot up through the atmosphere and into space.

"Chimera approaching portal," one of the technicians reported.

Rodney's eyes were tracking the ship's every move and he seemed to tense even more, if that was at all possible.

"Good luck," Zelenka murmured.

"Atlantis, we're about to cross through the portal," Larabee could be heard.

"God speed, Commander," Weir whispered.

And then the Chimera was sucked into the portal.

 

*

 

"We have no idea if they got through," Elizabeth said softly.

"No," Rodney confirmed. "The moment the Chimera entered the portal, we lost track of her."

"So we can only pray."

He nodded, face grave. "We could send another probe through. The portal is still open. The probe would fit."

"Do it," she decided. "If we can get some information we should at least try it."

Sheppard was already out of his chair and heading for the 'Jumper bay. Rodney hurried after him, shooting the other man a sharp look in case he protested his company.

John didn't.

Elizabeth just smiled.

 

* * *

 

The Puddlejumper hovered at a safe distance to the portal. Rodney was busy checking his readings and readying another probe.

"It's already smaller than the Chimera," he said.

John gazed at the sight outside the window. There was no visible event horizon, but the 'Jumper was less even to steer, which indicated the closeness of the portal. Rodney had told him how far to go and when to stop and keep the 'Jumper steady. He trusted in McKay's advice.

"Will the probe fit?"

"Yes. No problem. But it's gotten more active, more volatile, and the forces at work are immense. I'm not sure the probe makes it through in one piece."

"Let's try," Sheppard only said.

Rodney nodded and deployed the probe. It shot away, heading for the portal. There was a breathless moment as it was sucked into the gravity field, then a small explosion lit up Rodney's screen and could be seen as a bright flare in space.

McKay stared at the screen in shock, stomach twisting. "Oh…"

Sheppard's expression was grim. "What happened?"

"It, ah, well, the gravity field seems to be a lot stronger. The probe wasn't shielded and it, ah, was torn apart."

Hazel eyes met blue and Rodney swallowed.

"Do you think…?"

"No," John answered firmly. "They made it."

"But…"

"Rodney, they made it."

Rodney gazed out the 'Jumper's front window again. "I hope so," he murmured, then forced himself back to his screen.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir," Elizabeth could be heard.

"This is Sheppard. The probe was deployed successfully, but it was destroyed by the gravity field of the portal."

John glanced at his lover, brows rising a little. Rodney sighed and activated his radio.

"Dr. Weir, this is McKay. We can't send any more probes through. The internal forces of the portal would tear everything apart, unless we protect it with the equivalent of the Atlantis force field.

"I understand. Come back home," Elizabeth only said.

"Coming home," John confirmed and smoothly steered the Puddlejumper back toward the planet.

McKay was uncharacteristically silent and the Colonel reached out, touching the other mind.

<I'm fine> Rodney answered.

<You're not>

<I'm fine!>

<I'm not> John countered. <Because I'm just as worried as you are. We have no idea if they made it, or if they arrived in their home galaxy, or in what shape they arrived>

Rodney gazed solemnly at him. <The portal delivered them to their home. We have the data of the first probe. We just don't know if they went there in one piece or if we sent them home in pieces>

<Rodney…>

<I'm fine>

John reached out and hugged him tightly, feeling his own sadness at the thought of the death of the seven men break through. Rodney gave him a gentle hug in turn.

The Puddlejumper descended toward Atlantis.

 

* * *

 

It was one of those sunny days that weren't too hot. There were clouds in the sky, lazily moved by a gentle breeze, and the temperatures were warm enough to wear a t-shirt, but cool enough not to break out in a complete sweat within seconds.

Rodney sat underneath one of the trees near the landing site, a fond smile on his lips. Whoever knew him wouldn't believe how relaxed and happy he looked. A Rodney McKay who wasn't hyper-actively running around, talking a mile a minute, gadgets in hand, shouting at his people to stop lazing around, demanding an immediate update on matters… it was hard to believe. After the last weeks, Rodney felt more than ready to shed that guise for a moment and give in to something else.

The ever-developing connection between him and John Sheppard.

The Chimera had disappeared three weeks ago and while everyone who had been working so closely and so long with the seven men was worried, many tried to get back to normal. There was no word from them and maybe there never would be. Rodney had calculated that if they sent an unmanned probe or shuttle from the Chimera's home galaxy to the Pegasus galaxy, they might hear from them in maybe, possibly, if they were lucky, three years. That was a calculation from the last Jump point on the map JD had given them of the place they had come from to Atlantis, without interference, without turbulence, without getting destroyed, and with an unlimited fuel supply.

To take their minds off things, John had asked for an off-world mission and that had been quite entertaining and relaxing, but not as much as their visit to the mainland. That had been Rodney's idea after he had felt his lover's itch. The Kiowata wanted to stretch its legs.

So here they were. A man and his horse. Rodney smirked at that thought, but there was a warm expression in his eyes as he watched the dark brown, long legged beauty canter over to him. John looked decidedly windblown. His black mane was ruffled, the hazel eyes alight with the freedom he felt, something he liked to share with Rodney. The head with the sharp horns lowered and McKay ran a tender caress over the velvety snout.

<Had enough?>

<No> was the delighted reply. <I was thinking about the beach further down. You wanna come?>

The pricked ears, the raised tail, the impatience John radiated, had Rodney chuckle.

<I'll fly, you run>

<You can ride>

<No way. You start to gallop and I'll end up with a dozen broken bones on the ground>

John nuzzled him. <I'd never let you fall. We walk>

<Flying is faster>

<I'm not going in there as a Kiowata! Please?>

Rodney groaned and got up, collecting the clothes Sheppard had dumped next to him. Everything went into a backpack. Rodney eyed the tall Kiowata dubiously. He had been on Sheppard's horseback on M7B-377, but it had been a haphazard affair and he wasn't a natural rider. He also wasn't athletic enough to hoist himself up.

<There's a rock over there> Sheppard walked a few paces into the direction. <You can get up easily>

And Rodney did. Not easily, at least in his book, but he managed, and he sat on the broad, warm back, feeling unwell and self-conscious.

<Relax. I won't run>

And John started to walk.

<Easy on the death grip, Rodney>

"Huh? Oh. Yes." Rodney tentatively let got of the black mane he had been clutching.

<It's like on M7B-377. Just relax. Trust me>

He breathed shakily. "I trust you," he whispered.

<You don't trust yourself?>

<I've never been on a horse before>

<I'm not a horse, so that's good then>

Rodney groaned. "And I know I'm gonna be sore," he muttered.

He had been on the planet. Very sore. But it had been easier traveling. By the time they arrived at the shore, Rodney was a little bit more relaxed and actually enjoying himself.

<See? It's not so bad>

Rodney slipped off the broad back and stumbled a little, grabbing for support. "Whoa! Damn, you're big!"

<You never complained before>

Blue eyes glared. "So bad, John. You really have to work on your repertoire."

He was nuzzled and had to smile involuntarily. The softness was addictive. He patted the square cheek and John blew warm air into his hair, making Rodney shiver.

"Go. Run," he said softly.

John whinnied and turned on his hind legs, then he was off like a flash. Rodney couldn't but smile as he watched the dark brown Kiowata thunder across the dunes and down the beach, water spraying up as sharp hooves dug into the hard beach sand. Rodney felt exhilaration wash over him like a wave and he closed his eyes, becoming one with John as they raced across the sand. Rodney sat down, the backpack beside him, and he watched.

Yes, this was freedom. Absolute freedom.

And power. The power of muscles, the strength of a Kiowata, and the bond between them.

<Love you> John whispered.

Rodney lay back in the sand, laughing happily, and he spread his arms, feeling the sand beneath him.

"I love you, John," he replied.

His answer was a delighted whinny from the other end of the beach.


	3. In Transit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission goes wrong. Really wrong. Because Calvin Kavanagh throws himself between an attacking Wraith and Dr. Rodney McKay... Why?

III: In Transit

 

 

It was nearly dark.

Some scattered emergency lights were on, but they were not meant to brighten the darkness. He moved carefully across the room, all senses alert, and then he heard it. It was a barely perceptible noise, so soft that he nearly missed it. Something had scraped over the metal floor. He tensed, freezing in his steps, listening hard. The sound didn't return. Carefully he moved on, muscles coiled to the snapping point, senses tuned to the slightest noise out of the ordinary. The murky darkness around him didn't reveal anything.

Another scraping, then a clicking noise could be heard and he froze again.

Suddenly something slammed into his side. He was flung to the right and barely managed to roll around before something struck the ground where he had just been. He tried to get out of the way of his attacker who gave a growl of anticipation of the kill, but was hit by another blow, which left him half lying, half sitting on the floor. His attacker gave a rumble.

He jumped up, but was caught in a strong grip. Still he wasn't ready to give in and the triumphant gleam in the dark eyes gave him extra strength. He was smaller than the other and he used it. He kicked hard and scored a hit. The other gave a surprised grunt of pain and his grip loosened.

John Sheppard managed to roll aside and came to his feet, looking for a weapon. He saw something not far away and made a dash for it. It was a metal staff and he whirled around, brandishing his weapon. Teyla had trained him well, but his opponent wasn't really impressed. His blow was caught in strong hands and he was suddenly pulled toward the taller man and unceremoniously pushed hard against the wall.

Something sharp touched his throat. "That," a rough voice whispered, "was a mistake."

He grimaced. "Yeah. Figured that."

"And it wasn't your first," the voice continued. "You were careless entering this room unprepared."

"I was prepared!" Sheppard protested.

"You weren't. Expect the unexpected. A warrior always has to be on his toes," Ronon growled.

"Speaking of which…" John rasped, gesturing at Ronon to let him go.

Ronon's lips creased into a wry, sarcastic smile and he dropped him. Sheppard dusted himself off. Well, he might have lost again, but at least he had done better than throughout the other training sessions. Most of the time he ended up with more bruises, though he didn't always lose. Ronon was good, especially in a hand to hand fight or with his gun, but Sheppard was agile and he learned fast. As long as he didn't let Ronon get a grip on him, he had a chance. The Satedan took these training sessions seriously and he never held back.

"At least you didn't get me the first time," he muttered.

Ronon's amusement grew. "I gave you a chance."

Sheppard grimaced. "How very kind of you." He wiped sweat off his face. "I need a shower."

Ronon smirked, but he didn't comment otherwise. They returned to the more populated areas in silence, parting ways when Sheppard headed for his own place. It was still the middle of the day and he knew he wouldn't find Rodney anywhere near either his or McKay's quarters yet, if at all. His lover was hip-deep in the data Ezra Standish had unearthed, and it was his baby right now.

John smiled.

Well, he would get some snuggling later.

 

* * *

 

John broke off the kiss and let his head fall back against the wall, trying his best to get oxygen back into his lungs as Rodney’s hands rested on his chest. Closing his eyes he willed his emotions down a little, feeling Rodney’s presence soothingly caress his own.

The past few days had been bad, physically as well as emotionally. An off-world mission had gone horribly wrong and Sheppard had lost one of his men, another had been injured. He himself had come away with scrapes and bruises when he had pushed Rodney through the Stargate and come tumbling after him. Ronon and Teyla hadn't shown a scratch, much to John's continued grumbling about this being unfair.

Sheppard had been examined by Carson, who had treated the scrapes on his left forearm and told him to rest. There had been no rest because one of Atlantis' generators had blown for no apparent reason, plunging a section of the city into total darkness. Rodney had taken his team to see what was going on.

The whole operation had lasted more than just a quick hour of banging the generator back into shape. Actually, it had been two whole days before John had been able to get his lover on his own again. By now his own batteries were running low and simple contact through the mind link wasn't enough any more.

Ezra had told him that the first year of a bond was apparently critical to their sanity. Sheppard could only agree. The need to touch, to hold Rodney in person, was strong, and while they both knew that a quickie outside their quarters was impossible, some heavy kissing and petting wasn't.

So when Rodney had made it back, tired but very pleased about getting the generator to work again, John had asked for a moment together. They had found it here, away from everyone else.

And the simple contact did wonders for John's mind. He didn’t think he had been this reactive to touch before, but if he had, he had never registered it. Sex had always been a pleasure, he had liked lying together afterwards with his various partners, but this, with Rodney, with the changes in them, was so very different. He could feel the touch as more than a physical sensation. It was a reaffirmation of what they had, and while it had gotten less intense in its expression and need, it was still something vital According to Ezra he would never completely lose it, only become more accustomed to Rodney in every sense of the way.

The next kiss was gentler, deeper, exploring and soothing and so very much them. John let himself fall into the contact while also keeping Rodney afloat in their joined whirlpool of emotions. He spread his fingers and ran them through his lover's short hair, pulling him in closer, deeper, needing this so very much it frightened him sometimes.

//Me too// Rodney whispered, his kisses tapering off, turning into tiny bites.

Sheppard laughed breathlessly, burying his head against Rodney's neck. //I feel like some needy bastard//

//You're not//

There was a faint sound, almost too low to hear, but Sheppard was on alert within a second. He drew back from Rodney's solid form, hand flying to his weapon as he looked around – and met a pair of shocked blue eyes. Behind glasses.

//Oh shit!//

//What?//

Rodney’s reaction had been only a brief second behind his, but he had enough time to watch Kavanagh suck in a breath and whirl around.

//Oh shit…//

//That’s what I just said. Damn!// Sheppard cursed.

//Who would have thought he’d come here?//

This wasn't exactly one of the most popular places. It was outside the main corridors, those usually traveled, and in the two years they had been here, Rodney hadn't come to this place more than twice. First to take a look, the second time with John when he had sought a quiet place to be together.

Now Kavanagh had found them here.

//That doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? He saw us, Rodney. He knows!// John argued angrily.

//And if Kavanagh knows …//

//…he will tell. We need to talk to Elizabeth//

Rodney hesitated. Elizabeth knew about them, but he wasn't comfortable with running to their expedition leader like two kids.

//John?//

Hard eyes met his, the decision already made. There would be no arguing, and if there was, McKay couldn't win.

//We have to face this. Let’s give her a heads up before he comes barging in, complaining about the lack of… whatever, he’ll find something//

Rodney sighed. He knew John was right, but he didn't have to be happy about it. Kavanagh had returned aboard the Daedalus just a few weeks ago and no one had been ecstatic about it. Rodney, as the head of the science department, had agreed to have the man back because they needed good people. Kavanagh was good, but he was also a prick, an asshole, a sonofabitch, a coward and then some. He couldn't stand him personally, but the other physicist did good work.

So far he had worked almost demurely, getting in less quarrels with his fellow scientists than before, and he rarely interacted with anyone outside the necessary. He kept to himself and if Rodney saw something like pain in the blue eyes, it had to be his imagination.

Now Kavanagh had run into them, and he knew shit was about to hit the fan.

 

* * *

 

John watched Kavanagh walk into Elizabeth’s office, expression freezing when he noticed who was waiting for him.

"I see," he remarked, lips a thin line.

“Please, Dr. Kavanagh, have a seat. There is something we’d like to discuss with you,” Weir invited him.

Kavanagh shot an unreadable glance into the Colonel's direction, but he sat down. His entire demeanor spoke of wariness, and John couldn’t blame him for it, thinking about the last time he had seen him here. A lot had happened since that unlucky incident and Kavanagh had left again aboard the Daedalus as it had gone back to Earth. Sheppard had hoped never to see him again, but here he was.

//He's a good scientist// Rodney repeated what he had told him time and time again. //Brilliant, actually. If he gets off his high horse, that is//

“Dr. Kavanagh, it seems you were… witness to something…“ Weir started.

“Witness? You could say that. That’s why you called me here? To make sure I keep silent? So, where’s your knife-wielding gorilla then? Not threatening to cut out my tongue should I… slip?”

“Oh please,” Rodney cut in, rolling his eyes, “nobody is threatening anybody here. We're just… asking.”

“Real nicely,” John smiled ferally.

“Oh, I know your ‘real nicely’, Colonel, thank you very much.”

“Dr. Kavanagh,” Elizabeth said softly, catching the scientist’s attention again, “all we ask of you is to keep what you saw to yourself.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because we asked? Real nicely?” John repeated.

//John!//

//What?// he asked.

//I can stand Kavanagh about as much as you, but if we want to keep this under wraps we should indeed ask real nicely!// Rodney snapped angrily.

//Isn’t that what I just did?//

There was a wave of amusement coming over the bond.

//You, Colonel, just scared the living daylights out of him//

John frowned and studied the scientist, who was bravely trying to hide his fear. But the fear was there. //Huh. Didn’t know I could//

//Believe me, you can. You can be one scary guy//

Sheppard gazed briefly at him, a deep, searching look, and Rodney pushed inquiries away.

//Huh// he murmured only.

John’s full attention snapped back to Kavanagh when the man rose. Blue eyes regarded them and there was something that made John’s instincts stir – he just couldn’t lay a finger on it. The whole scientist's stance was different. It wasn't the arrogant behavior of before, more like he had been shot down and then kicked some more. Sheppard couldn't think of anything they had said that would warrant this kind of reaction. For a moment, Kavanagh's eyes lingered on Rodney, then traveled to Sheppard, only to slide away.

“I'll keep this to myself, don’t worry,” he said, and John frowned slightly.

“And how can we be sure?”

This time the glance was even icier.

“I guess you'll just have to trust me, won't you?”

Definitely off here. Prickly, almost hostile in some regard, icy and controlled, but still… something was niggling John, something was trying to get his attention. His instincts had never been wrong, especially now that he had those of a Kiowata to help.

Kavanagh turned, but stopped before he reached the door, looking back at Rodney.

“I don’t understand you, McKay," he only said, voice without emotional inflection.

"What?" Rodney challenged, eyes flaring.

"Love changes everything, hm?”

O-kay… John straightened, his instincts screaming at him now as he watched the man walk away. He seemed to have lost some of his cockiness.

//John?// Confusion radiated from his lover.

//Well... that went well//

//Not. Kavanagh can make our lives a real misery now!//

//And that’s different from before – how?//

//Hm//

Sheppard still looked at the door, lost in thought, when something poked him in the rib. Rodney. His lover watched him curiously, but didn’t ask any questions.

"I'd like to talk to Elizabeth, ‘kay?"

Rodney's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

//Rodney, please..//

There was a indignant huff. //It's not like I can't get it out of you//

//I know. Just… please?//

//Okay… have it your way. Mr. Secret// Rodney hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added a hopeful //See you later?//

//Later//

John smiled when he felt a fleeting sensation over the bond that he had come to associate with a virtual kiss from his lover, then Rodney walked out.

“I think I'll need some more time getting used to this wordless conversation of yours,” Elizabeth remarked wryly.

“Oh, I have no doubt you’ll adapt. Say, Elizabeth?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have Kavanagh’s file?”

“Sure. Why?”

Sheppard gave her a smile. “I’d like to take a look at it. At least the publicly accessible part.”

 

*

 

Two hours and three cups of coffee later John Sheppard’s brows furrowed deep in thought as he read through the file for a second time.

“Gotcha…”

 

* * *

 

It was a week after the Kavanagh incident. Rodney was on his way back to his quarters. He had been caught up in science matters and lost track of time. Zelenka had finally given him a kick in the butt to get him to move out of the lab, and Rodney had grumbled all the way to the door. He knew Sheppard was in his room, but he hadn't expected him to sit at his overflowing desk and read something that looked suspiciously like…

“Is that a personnel file?!” //And if it is, it better not be mine!// he snapped.

//I already know yours. And what isn't in your file, I still know// He smirked a little, then held up a sheet of paper. “Kavanagh, Calvin Jason.”

“Why are you sifting through his file?” Rodney looked downright confused. “Looking for blackmail material?”

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “No. Look at this. Did you know Kavanagh’s only twenty eight?”

“Yes. Well no, not really. Comes with the job description,” Rodney had grabbed the file, reading the paragraph John had indicated. “Most scientists are pretty young when they’re good.”

“So you do think Kavanagh is good?”

It got him The Look.

“Please. He wouldn’t be here in the first place if he wasn’t. What am I looking for?”

“This. Kavanagh studied under a professor Miles Armbruster at MIT.”

Rodney nodded. “I know him. We were colleagues for while.”

“Then you know that Armbruster hadn’t published for quite a while. I bet he was getting problems already and not only with tenure. The scientific world doesn’t forgive you if you don’t come up with new papers or articles every few weeks, right? It's your reputation, your tenure, the money…”

“Armbruster has quite the reputation, that’s right. And it’s not every few weeks.” Rodney made a dismissive gesture. "Depends on who you are, what your position is, where you want to go. Some professors publish once a year, but each publication is a bestseller, so to speak."

"Like yours?"

That got him a grimace. "I'm not exactly able to publish Stargate theories and the like on a regular basis. And I've been busy surviving for the past two years!"

//Down, boy. I was only joking//

Rodney shot him a dark look and John gave him a gentle hug over the bond.

“You know what I mean. Anyway, ten years ago he came up with this revolutionary paper all of a sudden, about black holes and their influence on the time-space-continuum or something like that.”

Rodney nodded. “Yes, I remember that one. A rather radical theory he had there. Not proven yet, but I think if you give me some time…”

“It wasn’t his.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t his. He stole it," John repeated calmly.

Rodney blinked. And looked at the file. And blinked some more.

“No way!”

“Sure way. Calvin Kavanagh was a young, impressionable but ingenious student, and he had a real knack for astrophysics, not unlike someone else we both know. He had that revolutionary theory and of course he talked about it.”

“With his professor.”

“No. With the man he loved.”

Rodney stared at him with wide, blank eyes for a whole ten seconds, and John couldn’t help the grin. Who would have thought he could ever render his lover speechless?

“Kavanagh is gay?” McKay finally croaked.

“Yep.”

“And he slept… Kavanagh?? With a teacher?!” His voice rose.

“Yep.”

Rodney groaned and sank down onto the bed, file still in hand. “I so do not need that image.”

 “Neither did I. But Rodney, that’s not the point. The oh so renowned professor Armbruster not only slept with his student, he also stole his work. And denied the whole affair afterwards. Who do you think they believed? The renowned professor…"

“…or the little student who claims to have an affair with said renowned professor, so that ... damn… How did you get all that information, by the way?” Rodney asked suspiciously.

John shrugged. “I have my ways, McKay, you have yours. Even out here. There’s a glitch in his file, see? You usually don’t leave university during a semester, do you?”

“Not without a very good reason,” Rodney said slowly. “God, what must he have lost back then... Reputation, credibility … “

Sheppard nodded. “Self-esteem, trust… No wonder he goes by the rules only. It’s the only thing that gives him a feeling of security.”

“And you managed to find this out how?”

A shrug. “At first, pure deduction. Papers and stuff. I called in a favor and got something else that isn't publicly accessible. Someone at the SGC knows it's his work, but the science world doesn't and never will."

"Who knows?" Rodney demanded.

"I think you know her. Colonel Samantha Carter."

"What?"

Sheppard shrugged. "She recommended him for the SGC. I have it from very reliable sources that she was aware of Armbruster's theft. And, Rodney, I think there’s more.”

“More?” Rodney whispered.

“Ever asked yourself why he left Atlantis in such a rush the first time? Only to come back again? Then he left once more… and returned.”

"Well, we called him a mole that second time and Ronon scared him into a dead faint…"

"Not enough reason to actually go. There's more."

“Do I even want to know?”

It was a rhetorical question and Sheppard knew it. So he gave Rodney the last piece of information and he knew it would floor his lover completely.

 

 

Ten minutes later Rodney lay halfway curled up on the bed and groaned miserably. John watched him, aware of the 'don't touch' mode at the moment. Mind links were fun that way. His lover was too miserable to accept reassurance and touches. He would probably bite his head off.

“Good god, John. Now I really have to talk to him.”

“Yep.”

“And what, oh mighty one, made you dig up all this?”

“Love changes everything.”

“Huh?” Rodney turned on his back and gave him a mystified look.

“Love changes everything. That’s what he said.”

Rodney groaned again.

 

* * *

 

Kavanagh opened his door and Rodney saw the surprise on his face, quickly quenched by sarcasm.

“You? What now, McKay? Come to ‘convince’ me?”

“No. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Kavanagh shrugged and stepped aside, letting Rodney in.

“What do you want, McKay?”

Rodney pushed the laptop onto the table in front of Kavanagh, wordlessly requesting him to take a look. Something flickered through Kavanagh’s eyes as he glanced at the screen, looking back at Rodney defensively.

“It’s the Armbruster Theorem. I know it. What about it?” He sounded cold, challenging, biting, ready to kick Rodney out if he made a wrong move.

“It’s fucking brilliant, that’s about it.”

“So?”

“I bet you know it. Inside out?”

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously and the pale face was a mask. “What are you implying, McKay?”

“Why did you never complete it?”

For a moment there was breathless silence, then Kavanagh blurted “What?!”

“This thing is brilliant, Kavanagh. I know the man. Armbruster could never have come up with something like it! But you could, couldn’t you?”

This time the flicker was more pronounced when Kavanagh looked at everything but him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

“Yes, you do. You loved him, didn’t you?" Rodney ruthlessly drove his point home. He noticed the further loss of color to Kavanagh's skin. "And he stole your work, the one that would have opened you doors you never even dared to dream of, and claimed it as his. And when you got over your initial shock and demanded answers, explanations, something, he threw you out. Betrayed your trust both as teacher and lover. Nobody ever believed you, and you had to leave MIT, go to NC State university, and start all over again. Did he threaten you?”

Kavanagh had become as white as a sheet, listening to Rodney’s words, and for the first time since he knew him Rodney felt something like sympathy for the other man. And he hadn’t even dealt the final blow yet.

Kavanagh didn’t answer the last question, but Rodney didn’t really need it. He had known Miles Armbruster, had even worked with the man, but he had never really liked him. Rodney was a scientist with every fiber of his being and was of course proud of his accomplishments. He didn’t really need other people’s praise or recognition. He had a healthy enough ego, as many could attest to, and he knew he was good.

 Armbruster had craved it, and for a moment Rodney could see a younger version of Calvin Kavanagh, a little susceptible, impressionable and wide-eyed, hanging at the professor’s lips for every word and thus giving him exactly what he wanted – with a little extra at the side.

Armbruster had used this young man, had made him his toy, his fuck toy. Rodney held no illusions that it had been anything other than that. Armbruster used people, then threw them away. He had done that with Calvin Kavanagh, and it had destroyed what Rodney thought might have been a brilliant mind and a probably much more likeable personality.

“Calvin,” he said softly, wincing himself when he saw his colleague flinch. He had never addressed him that way. “You loved him.”

Kavanagh hesitated longer this time before nodding once.

“And love changes everything?”

“It does,” he muttered, not meeting Rodney's eyes.

“And you never did it again. Until… now.”

This time Kavanagh did look at him and Rodney got the distinct impression of looking at a caged animal. Blue eyes behind glasses, wide with – fear? – hands clenched, slightly trembling… jeezus. The man was at the end of his emotional rope and it was showing. He was about to snap, and run, and never come back.

“I’m sorry,” Rodney whispered, “I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

It didn’t sound at all like the Kavanagh he knew. It sounded shattered, devastated.

Broken.

“Did you come back because…?”

Kavanagh swallowed dryly. “Yes. And I will leave again because.”

“Don’t," Rodney heard himself say before his brain started thinking. "Calvin, there's a whole world out there. A whole galaxy!“

“No! I can’t!" Kavanagh exclaimed. "Not again. I made mistakes, I paid for them. And I paid for having hope again. When I saw you with… him, I knew. I don’t have any friends here. I’m not a nice guy, I know that. Nobody likes me, and I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t like myself.”

“You don’t like yourself!" Rodney snapped. "How could you? You lost yourself ten years ago. And I didn’t help much, did I?”

This time the blue eyes were filled with anguish, but Kavanagh didn’t say a word. It tore into Rodney’s heart to see his colleague like this – though he had been the first to admit that he disliked Kavanagh. There was a slight hum over the bond, telling him that John had maybe picked up some of his confused emotions and sent reassurance. Rodney brushed over the mind that was so close to his, but then concentrated back on Kavanagh.

“You were alone,” he murmured.

“You get used to it.”

“I know.”

Kavanagh swallowed, hands moving restlessly. “I’m going to pack, leave next time with the Daedalus. It’ll be here in another two weeks. I'll stay out of your way.“

“No, you won’t.”

“What? McKay, I…"

“Gonna run again?" Rodney demanded, anger rising. "How far do you want to go? You’ve run into another galaxy already and look what it got you!”

“McKay…“ the physicist pleaded.

Rodney made a harsh gesture with his hands, cutting him off. “Listen, I know all about running. Expert talking here. Calvin, there’s nowhere to run. You always take yourself with you, so the only way to get rid of your demons is to face them. Head on.”

Kavanagh gave a sharp snort. “Look who’s talking.”

“Oh please, give me some slack here!" came the protest. "As if living in a galaxy with the constant threat of life-sucking aliens who think you’re the delicacy of the season, and psychopathic madmen who like to cut your throat just for the fun of it, and being on your toes 24/7 because one of the alien, highly overrated batteries in the alien city you live in could get a hiccup and you’re the only person in said galaxy able to fix it wouldn’t at least change you a ‘wee bit’,” McKay ranted, barely taking a breath.

Kavanagh stared at him.

And then he chuckled.

Rodney hadn't realized he had held his breath, but he felt some of the tension leave his body. Of course there was still the fact that Kavanagh… that this man… he just couldn’t even think the words.

“If you put it this way.”

“Yes, I do. Calvin, the Daedalus isn’t due for two weeks. Stay, think about it. See if you can do it. And keep your fingers out of my equipment.”

“You know how much I like to get my fingers on your equipment.”

“And that’s the precise reason you… Wait a minute! What?”

Rodney heard John’s outburst in his mind the very second he felt his face flush with heat.

//He got you there, Rodney//

//Oh shut up!//

“Don’t flirt with me, Kavanagh! God, I never thought I’d say those words.”

“I never flirted with you, McKay. Besides, you don’t even notice if someone does.”

“What?”

“He’s not here anymore.”

“What?! Wait, he?" Rodney spluttered. "As in… you weren’t the only… There was someone else?!”

Kavanagh chuckled.

As did John.

 

* * *

 

Rodney stared at the ceiling. They had shut the blinds, but the reflection of the moon on the water was partly dancing over the ceiling, giving the room a strange yet soothing atmosphere. Rodney stared at it.

“Stop it,” Sheppard mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” Rodney demanded.

“Even without the bond I can hear those wheels spinning.”

John stirred beside him, hazel eyes regarding him sleepily.

“Yeah, well, after receiving some life-altering information like that…“

“It’s not life-altering to learn someone fell in love with you, Rodney.”

“No, not for you, maybe! But me? And not only Kavanagh! Which is mind-boggling on its own. But there was at least one more person… and I didn’t even… and now…”

Rodney expelled a loud sigh. This was so complicated! And Kavanagh of all people! He had never felt the slightest stirring concerning the most obnoxious man he had ever worked with, and it hadn't been because he had lusted after John Sheppard either. Kavanagh wasn't his type.

“Now you can’t get this overactive mind of yours to stop feeding you with ‘what if’s’ and images of Kavanagh in the buff?” John teased mischievously.

“No! Well, not in the buff, but…“ Rodney broke off, mortified. "Oh god!"

John turned onto his stomach and smiled at him, not the least looking like a jealous lover. More like the best friend teasing the living daylights out of McKay. “You wonder. What could have been. If he had told you.”

It wasn’t a question.

“No! Okay, maybe. A little. He's not my type!" Rodney wailed.

"Oh?"

"I'm more into the military hot jocks with messy hair."

John grinned. "Good for me then."

"Very good for you, Colonel."

"You like the rank, too?"

"Oh please!" Rodney groaned. "I'm not that cheap!" He sighed and turned more serious. "You know, I met him before we came here, before I even heard of things like Gates or the SGC.”

“Kavanagh? You did?”

John propped himself up on one elbow, watching his lover with more interest now. Rodney nodded.

“Yes. I told you I worked with Armbruster once. I had just received my doctorate and they all… well, let’s just say recognized my ingenuity. Stop laughing! I gave a lecture as assistant professor and I remember seeing him there. First row, of course. Armbruster introduced him to me afterwards as his ‘most promising talent’.”

Rodney snorted.

“I didn’t get the whole meaning back then. But John, he was right. There was something about Kavanagh … he was enthusiastic about just being where he was. He loved to do science, to theorize and test it and try all over again, to push his mind to its limit. He wanted to learn.”

“Just like a certain someone we both know.”

Rodney glared at John but only for a second.

“Listening to that description I wouldn’t even remotely think of Kavanagh.”

“Neither would I. Now you can see just how much Armbruster destroyed.”

“And he fell in love with you.”

“And he fell…,“ Rodney groaned. “So not helping! He left Atlantis because of me. And he came back because of me. Me! I can’t… I just don’t understand it. Why would someone do that?”

“As he said, love changes everything. I would do the same.”

Rodney’s eyes widened. “You… you would?”

//All this time and you still don’t get it?//

//What?//

//I love you, Rodney McKay. I’d walk through a Hive ship for you. Unarmed//

//You…//

John threw an arm over his middle, snuggling closer. He gave a little affirmative grunt and Rodney stared at the shock of dark hair.

//Go to sleep, Rodney//

//NOW?!//

 

* * *

 

The next few days were awkward, but Rodney snarked and bitched his way through each and every one like always. Kavanagh worked silently in his lab, continued his projects, and rarely did anyone approach him. If at all, it was only to ask for a tool or where a report had suddenly disappeared to.

Rodney watched the interaction, or lack thereof, and started his own little campaign to reintegrate the man. Many called Kavanagh a traitor behind his back, a coward, a viper, an opportunistic bastard. McKay smothered all that talk right away. He didn't care what looks he got because of it. He wouldn't let any of this go any further.

Calvin Kavanagh wasn't who anyone thought he was. McKay knew that now and he would be damned if he let the hacking and pecking continue.

//Setting a good example?// John teased after Rodney had read a bunch of engineers the riot act because the puddlejumper's engine had started to overload after their so-called test-run.

//Someone has to//

//Like the head geek?//

Rodney snorted and swallowed the last of his chocolate bar. He had taken a quick break and washed the taste down with coffee.

//You need me?// he asked.

//Uh, no. Why?//

//This is gonna be a long night. Those morons wiped all systems. Radek and his team will pull an all-nighter//

//And you'll be there?//

//I've five reports to read through and four of them to trash//

Sheppard chuckled. //You do that. I can go for another night on my own//

//Ow, stop whining! You're a grown man!//

//Didn't whine. I'm okay// Sheppard sent a hug and added a kiss.

 

* * *

 

Calvin Kavanagh walked into his quarters, looking around the roomy living area. Nobody had ever been here with him, nobody had ever wanted to. And as he had said to Rodney, he couldn’t blame them.

Rodney McKay.

Abrasive, rude, obnoxious, snarky.

Self-declared genius of two galaxies.

And probably right.

Handsome.

Somehow he doubted that Rodney McKay would ever think of himself as handsome. But when he had seen him for the first time he had felt something inside him stir with interest. It had been in another time, in another galaxy, and they had both been different people then. He had been in a relationship – or so he had thought. Miles had betrayed him, his trust, his love. Rodney had been right. And Armbruster… Kavanagh had taken what had been left of his heart, soul and pride, locked his jaw and gone from there, always looking out for number one. Himself. Because – that lesson he had learned well - nobody else ever would. But he had kept an eye on the work of one Dr. McKay.

And then – Atlantis.

A new chance, to start all over again, get his abilities finally acknowledged. Hope.

Crushed within the blink of an eye. Sparkling blue eyes that had haunted him.

Rodney McKay.

He had worked with the man, had felt feelings flare to life that he had buried a lifetime ago, a galaxy away. He had fallen again.

And he hated Rodney for it.

Hated himself for it.

Had run away.

And come back, because Earth was just … Earth. Empty dry soil with out any spark. Without hope.

So he had come back. With the full intention of becoming a better man, a different man, maybe even courageous enough to talk to Rodney about his feelings.

But the Goa’uld incident, the bomb placed into Atlantis’ mainframe, had crushed that all over again.

Guilty until proven innocent.

Kavanagh snorted.

Story of his life.

And when he had seen what he had seen – Rodney pinning Sheppard against a wall, nuzzling his neck, engaged in a kiss that spoke of more than a fleeting encounter – he had buried his hope alongside everything else. Except for the bitterness that had raised its ugly head once again, telling him that he had been a fool, that it had been naïve and idiotic of him to even wish for anything but betrayal.

But still he had let Rodney convince him to stay, face his demons, as the other man had put it.

Why was it that Rodney McKay had such an influence on him, his life?

Kavanagh lay back on his bed, staring at the pattern the reflection of sunlight against the waves caused. His hand was resting on his stomach and he closed his eyes, feeling the heat concentrate in more southern areas. Letting his hand follow that heat, creating a tickling pattern on his skin he slipped it under the waistband of his pants, slowly, caressing his skin, feeling his breath becoming shorter and ragged. Spreading his legs he slid deeper, grabbing tighter, imagining it to be another man’s hand stroking him, squeezing him, making him gasp; another man’s lips swallowing his moans with searing kisses; another man’s hands on his body, caressing, teasing, touching him, spreading him, making him…

He arched into his own hand, barely stifling his cry as the wave of climax rolled through his body.

 

 

When his rapid breathing decreased, Kavanagh slowly opened his eyes again. Though his body was thrumming with the force of completion, there was still a reflection pattern on his ceiling, and it was only his own hand between his legs.

Kavanagh sighed and rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up and squeezing his eyes shut, not having any energy left for anything else. Had there been the warm fantasy of another man before, holding him, all he felt now was sticky and cold. And alone.

Story of his life.

 

* * *

 

The world around them was rocky and inhospitable. Wind swept wildly through the narrow gaps in the stunted trees and a thin, persistent rain that was more like a heavy mist trickled down out of a gray sky. In one direction there was nothing but thick, tangled undergrowth and in the other the ground ran roughly down into a valley as deep as the Grand Canyon -- only not so picturesque. Dark clouds raced across the sky.

John Sheppard looked at the horizon where lightning could be seen.

"Nice," he commented. "This place would make a lousy vacation spot."

The name of the place was M7L-899 and it had been next on their list of worlds to visit. All team members were clad in water proof fatigues, already dripping slightly from the steady stream of rather cold water from the sky. Reports from an earlier visit had brought back news of an interesting ruin, which had the scientists hop in circles and pleading to be let lose on the find. Elizabeth had finally agreed and here they were.

Sheppard had Lorne's team of Marines with him to keep an eye on the group of four scientists. One of them was Rodney, of course, who was eager to get his hands on whatever they might find. Another was Kavanagh. It wasn't the man's first off-world visit, though he was a far cry from McKay where experience came in.

"Okay, everyone!" John called, catching their attention. "Spread out and let's take a look around. No one wanders too far, understood?"

They nodded and started their exploration.

"Lorne, you take Burns and Shore. I'll keep my eyes on the others."

Sheppard gestured at Rodney and Kavanagh to indicate that those were the ones he wouldn't let out of his sight. Lorne nodded.

The wind continued to tug at their hair and Sheppard grimaced at the conditions.

 

* * *

 

John wiped water out of his eyes and scanned the area once more. They had been on this world for nearly a day now, getting a rough grid map established of the area around the abandoned structure that, by Rodney's estimate, wasn't really an Ancient outpost. It might have been one, but someone else had taken over and probably destroyed a lot of useful things.

They had not met a single soul, no sign of life, except animal life forms. The rain had ceased a few hours after their arrival - much to everyone's relief. The whole landscape seemed to consist more of canyons than anything else. From where he stood he saw a desolate vista of bare rocks and jagged hills, through which whistled a savage wind that tugged at him. Dark clouds churned overhead threatening more rain. A valley lay spread out beyond him, huge and staggeringly rough, as if a long-ago river had churned violently along the plain, eating it away in huge gulps. Ten feet beyond his booted feet, the ground dropped away.

Rodney was crooning over all the little finds within the Ancient structure, snapping at the geologist of their team to stop wasting time on trying to date the brittle stone and make himself useful by transcribing the runes. Kavanagh had chosen to retreat deeper into the ruins with his laptop, and Rodney reluctantly left their linguist – James Shore - and the geologist – Richard Burns - alone to follow some readings he had discovered.

//Down boy// John teased as he walked back. //Ruin's been here for thousands of years. It won't disappear if you don't get it all on the first day//

//With our luck?// came the snappish reply. //We'll probably have an earthquake tomorrow and everything's gone. I bet there was a whole city out there and it was swallowed by the canyon!//

John chuckled. The Kiowata inside of him wasn't very keen on running here either, though if push came to shove, he would have taken this as a running track, too. As it was, his Kiowata side was quite docile. He had spent some hours on the mainland and it had done him good.

 

 

Rodney headed deeper into the ruin, frowning at some readings. Strange. He hadn't noticed the significant amount of energy before. It might be something important. Maybe there was an energy source they could use…

//Careful, Rodney//

//I am, I am// he replied absent-mindedly.

And then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

One moment he was alone, the next his life sign scanner showed exactly that, a life sign. It flared brightly and Rodney didn't even have time to yell in fright, though his mind sent //Wraith!// quite clearly across the bond.

The Wraith darted toward him, grinning this ugly grin that seemed to be a trademark of his race, his hand descending onto his chest with snakelike speed and accuracy, and Rodney finished with his life in his mind.

Something crashed into the Wraith and sent him flying, snarling and hissing.

Rodney was thrown to the ground, landing painfully on his hip, but he had no time for pain.

There was an ear-splitting scream --

\-- followed by several volleys from a P-90 and the gurgling sound of a dying Wraith.

Rodney scrambled to his feet and crawled over to where the Wraith was still partly curled around his victim, and pushed the heavy figure off, feeling his stomach churn with dread of what he would see.

Male, black t-shirt… auburn pony-tail…

Kavanagh?

Auburn hair… not white, his mind told him. Auburn. Not white. No sudden aging. No energy stolen. Right?!

Turning the man onto his back Rodney steeled himself.

It was indeed Kavanagh. His shirt was soaked with the blood on the chest, indicating that the Wraith had actually started to feed, but his face… god, his face. It was still young! There were a few more lines, the cheek bones more pronounced but…

Not like Gaul. Not like Abrams. Not like back then…

A shudder raced through Rodney as memories of that horrible moment flashed through his mind. Gaul. A scientist, young like Kavanagh. Brilliant, too. His life taken in small pieces by a Wraith. The super-Wraith.

//Med team is on its way, Rodney. How is he?//

John's clipped voice drew him out of his thoughts and he drew a deep breath.

//Alive. He’s alive!//

He almost slumped over the unconscious figure while trying to stem the blood flow from where the Wraith had been ripped off Kavanagh’s chest, working on autopilot. He knew only too well how deep such wounds went, how painful they were. Gaul had bled, too. All victims did. Now Kavanagh's skin had been broken and he was bleeding. So much blood. Blood everywhere…

There weren't just puncture wounds from claws and the cut of the feeding, no. The Wraith had been ripped off its victim, had probably been desperate, and there were deep gauges. Four of them. And the feeding wound was jagged, large…

//He’ll make it, Rodney//

Sheppard was there, gun ready, looking fierce. Rodney was incredibly glad for the physical support, for the show of strength because, truthfully, he was about to lose it.

//He… he jumped in front of a Wraith, John. For me! Calvin Kavanagh jumped in front of a hunting Wraith! I heard him, John, heard him scream…// He shuddered, the rambling stuttering off.

//Let’s get you both to the infirmary and checked out. Then you can freak// John said levelly.

//Who says I’m freaking?!//

//Me. Because I am, too//

Rodney gave a faint, almost insane laugh. He wanted to cry, he wanted to yell, he wanted Kavanagh awake, he wanted John here with him…

//I'm here// Sheppard whispered and Rodney nodded.

//Know that. Know that… it’s… he did… what he… why? God, John… he was ready to… to…//

//No freaking. Not yet//

//I won't//

There were suddenly more people. Marines. One pushed Rodney aside and the physicist stumbled back, refusing to let the tremors get him, refusing to let the horror take over. Everything inside him was shaking so badly, he imagined he had to be shivering like an earthquake sensor. Sheppard was barking orders, sending someone to the Stargate to start dialing. Lorne was herding Burns and Shore away while two Marines brought a stretcher.

When had they found a stretcher?

"C'mon, Rodney," Sheppard could be heard. "Let's go."

He walked like on automatic, his face a mask, his eyes walled off. Behind the walls he was close to giving in to the terror. But only just.

Right now he had to hold it back. John's mind was a soothing touch and Rodney took strength from it.

They stepped through the Stargate to the bustle of medical personnel, more Marines, security keeping their guns trained on the event horizon in case of hostile forces coming through, and Carson was already with Kavanagh, who was being wheeled out of the main Gate room.

"Med bay, Rodney. You, too."

He didn't argue. The shock sat too deep.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out both men had been unbelievable lucky. Rodney didn’t have more than a few bruises from where the Wraith had knocked him to the ground, and Kavanagh – well, Kavanagh would have to thank every deity he acknowledged that he was alive. The Wraith had started to feed, but he had only been able to take a little, a few years in appearance, before Sheppard had gunned him down.

The terrible wounds had been stitched and according to Beckett there would be scars. The deep scratches were like a huge cat's claws ripping into skin. It wouldn't heal without a trace.

Kavanagh was still unconscious due to the fact his system had been shocked deeply and there had been considerable blood loss. Beckett hadn’t stitched him up again himself after cleaning out the worst of it. It had been one of the new physicians that had come with the Daedalus. It was probably to break him in to this life on the edge, Rodney mused.

“I can’t believe he threw himself in front of a Wraith for you,” Beckett muttered as he ran a last check on McKay, and Rodney glared.

“Thank you so very much, Carson. Do you think I’m not worth it?”

“I didn’t say that, lad. All I say is I never thought him capable of something like that.”

Rodney was very silent, glancing over to the bed in the infirmary where the unconscious form of Dr. Calvin Kavanagh lay. There was a monitor hooked up to him and a nurse was currently checking the readings.

//I don’t believe it either. Can I freak now?// McKay asked plaintively.

//Yes. I got you//

Rodney trembled slightly, feeling John’s arms wrap themselves around him, holding him. A soft moan escaped his lips and John tightened his hold, drawing him close, and Rodney buried his head in the uniformed shoulder. No need to hide here. Beckett stepped back, pulled the curtains to give them privacy, and disappeared with a silent nod.

//He… John… I can’t get his scream out of my mind. He knew he would die…// Rodney felt something inside of him curl into a tight ball at that.

He had faced too many Wraith to count and he had been a victim, too. He had spent hours in one of their cocoons, he had felt their hands on his flesh, he knew their strength and their mindless hunger.

//You don’t know that// John argued.

Blue eyes flared with anger. //Sure! Running into a hungry Wraith isn't like signing your own death certificate, right?//

//How often have you survived it by now?//

//Not the point//

//Sure the point//

//He did it for me, John. For me!//

A soft kiss was placed against his neck and Rodney felt his tremors increase.

"He did it for you," Sheppard murmured, his lips against Rodney's ear. "I'm glad he protected you when I couldn't."

"But why?" Rodney managed, voice uneven. "Why risk his life? Why walk into this knowing he would get killed?!"

John soothed him as his voice rose higher and Rodney closed his eyes, burying his head against his lover's chest. He couldn't be strong any more. He needed… he needed this. Needed John.

And Sheppard just held him silently.

 

*

 

Beckett released him with the advice to get some sleep, though Rodney doubted he would. A sedative was mentioned, but he shook his head. He didn’t want drugs. Not yet anyway. Should he lose it, yeah, sure, but right now no way.

Sheppard was at his side, a worried presence in his mind, and when they arrived at Rodney's quarters, he simply followed inside. There was no question whether he could be here or not. He would be here.

Elizabeth had her primary report and she would have to wait for more until both men had rested. Beckett would give her an update on their medical condition.

Rodney stripped completely on automatic, and the shower was brief and unerotic for both men. John coaxed him to bed, slipped in with him, and Rodney immediately curled up close to the other man. Sheppard held him silently, let him quietly unfold into total freakdom over what had happened, only the mind link a soft, warm pulse of reassurance.

He slipped off into sleep at some point, but it wasn't a restful one. Rodney dreamed of Wraith, of dead scientists, of people he had lost to life-sucking aliens, and he saw Kavanagh, ready to sacrifice himself for Rodney.

Why me? echoed in his dreams. Why do that for me?

Sheppard was there, reassuring him with his presence, and Rodney was infinitely thankful for it.

 

* * *

 

Sheppard had sent a team back to the ruin on M7L-899. Lorne had reported back two hours later. They had combed through the structure and found what had to be a hibernation chamber inside an escape pod, for one Wraith only, and it had been in a desolate state. The Wraith had apparently crashed onto the planet a while ago because there had been no signs of ship fragments, and they had woken it with their presence. It had been starved, desperate, and it had attacked Kavanagh.

"We brought back a few samples for the scientists," Lorne added. "Do you want us back there?"

John shook his head. "No. I'll talk to Dr. Weir, see if we need more intel, but I guess the only time we go back there is to destroy what's left of that thing."

Lorne nodded briskly and left.

Sheppard turned on his heels as well and headed for Elizabeth's office.

 

 

Three hours later Lorne was sent back, with a team, and they blew up the hibernation chamber and with it the body of the dead Wraith.

 

* * *

 

Calvin Kavanagh woke to a world of – no, not really pain, more like a deep soreness and aches, like having a flu or something. Part of him felt like wrapped in cotton, floating, and it was… nice.

He opened his eyes and saw gray. Focusing, he realized he was staring at a gray ceiling. The light hurt his eyes and he closed them again. Then he heard a voice. It sounded familiar and his mind sluggishly tried to remember more. He opened his eyes, carefully this time, not to be blinded again.

“You look like crap.”

And then there was that.

Taking a deep breath hurt, pulling at something on his chest. His memory was still rather sketchy, but he recalled the off-world visit, the ruins, the explorations.... and then nothing. Well, almost nothing. There had been someone.... Kavanagh forced himself to remember more, but it was hard.

 _…yellow, alien eyes, slitted pupils, pressure, and then pain… excruciating pain… his soul wrenched from him …_

He gasped, and a strangely soothing weight landed on his shoulder.

“Easy. You’re still walking this, well, planet.”

The weight turned out to be a hand. Which turned out to belong to…

“Sheppard?”

And had that scratchy sound just been his voice?

“Here, drink some water.”

Straw, mug, cool liquid. He coughed a little as it went down, but it felt like heaven.

“What are you doing here?” Kavanagh rasped.

Sheppard shrugged a little. “Obviously sitting at your bedside.”

“Ri-ight. You.”

John gave him one of those infuriating smiles. “Yes. Me.”

“And what’s wrong with that picture?”

“Kavanagh, I’m not saying I’m doing it because I like you - you’re still a pain in the ass. But from what I’ve come to understand about physicists by now, that’s a given. What you did, though… you rattled Rodney pretty good.”

Memories crept back once more. Seeing Rodney lost in his data, the approaching shadow, the realization that it was a Wraith, the frantic question where it had come from, and then the decision to do this.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Sleeping. He’s been up for more than twenty four hours.”

Sheppard looked like he had gotten at least a little sleep, but he could be wrong on that, too. Kavanagh felt like jelly and limp noodles. He was tired, his brain ached, his very soul hurt.

“That comes with the territory, too,” he only answered.

“Tell me about it. Listen, Kavanagh, I…“

“You’re not coming with apologies for your past behavior towards me, are you?”

Sheppard stopped, looking a thoughtful. “Well… no. I only wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“If you hadn’t done what you did Atlantis would be one genius short by now.”

He didn’t answer. What he had done – well, what had he done? Acting without even thinking twice. So not him. Kavanagh grimaced. All he had seen was this creature assailing Rodney and he had jumped into it, shoving it out of the way – and therefore shoving himself into its way. He shuddered involuntarily – searing agony, wrenching a scream out of his lungs with what seemed to be his last breath – and there was that hand again, squeezing his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sheppard said softly, and he saw in those eyes what he had seen some times before, in the mirror. “If you… you know, want to talk or something…“

“I certainly won’t come to you. But thanks for the offer anyway.”

Sheppard nodded and started to leave. He glanced back one more time, as if he wanted to say something, then just walked away.

Kavanagh remained in bed, too weak to do much, and when Beckett swooped down on him, he was almost out of it once more.

"How bad?" he only asked the physician.

Beckett gave him a tight but reassuring smile. "You'll have a wee bit of scarring. The blood loss was rather worrying, but we got some extra blood into you."

Blue eyes glared at him. "How much did he take?"

"Not much," came the new reassurance. "Four to five years. It barely shows."

Something inside of him trembled in fear. He had seen the victim of a Wraith attack before and Kavanagh knew he wasn't strong enough to look at an aged self. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Beckett retreated, giving him space, and the physicist drifted off to the nightmarish recollections of the attack and the pain.

 

* * *

 

Rodney noticed the tension in his labs, how the others shot him a look when they thought he wasn't watching. It was a tension born out of the latest events. Everyone was confused about Kavanagh's actions, wondered what had happened on the planet that Dr. Calvin Kavanagh would throw himself between Rodney and a Wraith. There were those in favor of the man, who had slowly grown warmer around him. They thought it was a kind of redemption act. Kavanagh had truly wanted to save his fellow scientist and those people claimed he wasn't the coward he appeared to be.

Then there were the others, those who were still suspicious of him. They thought there were ulterior motives, but they couldn't find any. Lack of bitching and complaining about Kavanagh's act on Rodney's side – and why should he complain about being saved? – furthered the confusion. McKay behaved normally, didn't rant about his former enemy.

"How is Kavanagh?" Zelenka wanted to know while they worked on their project.

"How are you after a Wraith attacks you?" Rodney asked with a hint of anger.

Zelenka gave him a silent look, his eyes serious behind the thin glasses. "He lost years?"

"Five. About five. He's alive, I didn't kill him, so can we go back to work?"

Another long look. "You never killed anyone, Rodney."

McKay drew a deep breath, fighting down his more volatile reaction. Instead of a verbal answer he turned back to his screen. Zelenka stayed at his side, sharing the silence.

"He has changed," the engineer finally said.

Rodney worked on, trying to ignore him.

"He came back and I wondered about your state of mind when you said you would take him back."

That got Zelenka a glare. He returned it with a smile.

"You two never got along. He fought you, you bit his head off, he got back at you, and so on. Something changed. He came back, he changed."

"He's an asshole, Radek. A self-centered little prick."

"Really? He stepped between you and Wraith. He saved you."

Rodney stopped his work, tensing up. "Yes," he ground out. "Yes, he saved my life. For whatever reasons. Yes, he might not be a total coward. Yes, I took him back, but only because we're running short of scientists who annoy me, though you're a runner up for his position!"

Zelenka regarded him critically. "You were the one to make point of working with him, Rodney. Everyone turned to you for guidance when he came back and you accepted him."

Rodney straightened and turned to face the engineer, glaring now. "How about we cut the chit-chat and work on our main problem here? It's what you get paid for!"

"Of course." Zelenka turned back to work, but not without another pointed look.

Rodney stared at him, then finally pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay," he said slowly. "All right, I confess to it, he's changed. He's half the asshole of before. Well, maybe even less. He showed backbone out there and I'm grateful for it." Blue eyes bore into Zelenka. "Happy now? You made me spill my guts!"

The engineer smiled. "Yes."

And with that he was back at work.

McKay growled something under his breath, ignoring the other man for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

Sheppard had had an appointment with Beckett, mainly to answer some questions on the bond, his mental state as the Kiowata, and to have blood drawn. He grimaced as the needle was removed. It didn't hurt, but he hated it anyway. He felt like a pin cushion sometimes.

Beckett was not only catching up on Kiowata needs, he was also trying to understand the changes that had happened to both Rodney and John. The mind-link was very… versatile, and so far Beckett had only requested a few experiments, not going any deeper than the general stuff. Sheppard wasn’t sure he wanted to demonstrate how he could sexually arouse his lover by just sending the right images.

Shape-changing had happened frequently under the watchful eyes of Carson, and the doctor was trying to understand how the body mass and whole bone structure could rearrange itself so efficiently and quickly as it did. John didn’t really want to know. Really. Absolutely not. But he patiently let Beckett go over the readings, ask him questions and coax him into another change. He even had had Rodney be there, to measure if the shape-shifting did anything to the physicist. It didn’t.

Now John sat on the chair, finger pressing a little wad of bandage against the needle mark to stop the bleeding. His eyes strayed around and he found himself seeking out the bed Kavanagh still lay in. He watched a dark haired doctor check on the injured man, smiling, talking to him.

“Carson,” he asked softly, “who’s the new doc?”

Beckett turned and looked toward where John was indicating. “Allan?”

John nodded.

“Dr. Allan O’Rourke. His specialty is intensive and trauma medicine. The lad worked in emergency rooms in the US and Canada. He has quite the talent. Learned from the best.”

“How come he’s here?”

“He came with the Daedalus, by recommendation from General O’Neill.”

John looked thoughtful. “Has he any family?”

That earned him a surprised look. “Nae, not that I know of.” Then Carson inhaled. “I know what you’re asking, Colonel. Many of those who came here after the original expedition have a reason. Allan lost his partner two years ago, Goa’uld attack. He’s not keeping it a secret when someone’s asking.”

Carson glanced over his shoulder at where the two men where obviously arguing, Kavanagh ready to get up and O’Rourke pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder, gentle but firm. Finally Kavanagh gave in with an exasperated eye-roll and lay back. John had to grin.

“He knows how to handle renitent patients?”

“Aye, that he does. And quite well, I may add.” Beckett smirked.

John just watched the two men, the patient and his doctor, and he wondered.

 

* * *

 

Five days after the attack, after he had been discharged from the med labs, but had been told to take it easy, Kavanagh had the mandatory talk with Heightmeyer. She told him to come to her whenever he felt he needed someone to talk to. Kavanagh just nodded and left, walking straight to his quarters. He was on sick leave until his injuries were healed and he got a clean psych eval.

Whatever for? He wasn't likely to really end up with off-world missions, right? He didn't need to save the day like McKay did on a regular basis. He didn't even wield a gun. Not that he knew how to shoot one in the first place…

Blue eyes were drawn to the mirror in his quarters and his lips became a thin line. The Wraith hadn't taken much, like Beckett had already assured him. Four to five years maybe. He didn't have any graying strands, his skin wasn't wrinkled, and aside from his more pronounced cheekbones, a thinner, leaner look, he was still himself.

Kavanagh took his glasses off and massaged his eyes. He was aching, had a faint headache, and he was tired. All normal, he had been told. All a side effect.

He felt like throwing up. He could still feel it, the feeding process, his life draining away. And the pain. Looking into those yellow eyes, hungry and feral, and the pain in his chest…

Kavanagh knew that few people survived the first feeding and that he was lucky. He snorted. What luck was that? He didn't look like an old man, but the pain and the memories alone had him go through sleepless nights.

He hated to look at the scars. The ‘wee bit of scarring’ Beckett had mentioned was actually more than ‘wee’. They were deep and red and the stitches were still there. His chest looked mauled and he was glad for the bandages. He placed a hand on the wound underneath his t-shirt and shuddered.

Everything was coming apart. He was back on Atlantis, but aside from Rodney and maybe one or two others from the scientists, no one really spoke to him. He was watching the man he had fallen for with someone else, and though he didn't feel an all-consuming jealousy, he had this longing.

If he had told McKay… well, nothing would have changed. He probably would have had to leave Atlantis sooner than he already had.

The Daedalus was still a viable option. He could hand in his resignation, once again, and run. But Rodney had been right. He was running from himself, but by running he always took himself with him. And what was there on Earth?

Nothing.

Kavanagh felt something inside of him whimper. He was alone. Wherever he went. At least he could call Rodney something akin to a friend, though he wouldn't be so daring to say it out loud.

There was a faint knock and he flinched.

"Yes?"

"It's O'Rourke," a voice could be heard. "Can I come in?"

The physicist drew a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He opened the door and was greeted by a friendly smile.

"Hey. I was going off shift and wanted to drop by, see how you're doing."

Kavanagh stepped back and let the other man inside. "How do you think I'm doing?" he almost-snapped.

"From a physical point of view I know how you are," the doctor replied mildly.

"I'm seeing Heightmeyer," was the dismissive retort.

"Cal, stop biting my head off."

Kavanagh was frozen for a moment, then his shoulders dropped. O'Rourke regarded him with veiled worry.

They had first met aboard the Daedalus, on the day Kavanagh had decided that returning to Atlantis might be his best and only option, at least compared to the SGC or any lab associated with it. O'Rourke had been thoroughly briefed on what to expect, but for some reason there hadn't been much worry in the other man. He had been working with SGC for two years, had seen aliens and had been off world before, as far as he had told Kavanagh. There had been talk about him filling in for the deceased Janet Fraser, but he hadn't and now he was here.

For some reason, both men had hit off on the month long trip. Kavanagh discovered he liked to talk to the other man, though he wasn't revealing any secrets or spilling his guts. He just… talked.

"Sorry," he now murmured. "Uh, why are you here?"

"Like I said, I'm off shift, unless we get an emergency, and I was wondering if you wanted to, well, have dinner with me."

Kavanagh felt drawn between surprise and anger. Anger won.

"What? Is this some kind of a joke? McKay set you up to it?"

The doctor's eyes showed confusion. "Dr. McKay? No. Calvin, I'm sorry if this is a bad time… or if it came across wrong…"

Kavanagh ran a hand over his hair, trying to calm down. He was too edgy, too wary, too plain exhausted by it all to think rationally. Even after Rodney had openly shown that he accepted Kavanagh as a co-worker, hell, as a fellow scientist, things had only gradually turned better. Now, after the attack, Kavanagh was emotionally rattled and O'Rourke's question had hit something inside of him that was terrified of some kind of prank.

What if the others had set Allan up to this? What if he followed the innocent invitation he would end up with some joke played on him? What if this wasn't real, just wishful thinking?

To have a friend. Someone who wasn't McKay. Because aside from that fledgling friendship, there was no one else.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. It's been a bad few days."

"Make it months. I noticed the tension. It's hard not to."

O'Rourke leaned against the edge of the desk, hands casually resting on the desk top, fingers curling around the edge. Kavanagh had let a few things leak as they had made their way from Earth to Atlantis. Not much, but he had told his fellow scientist that Atlantis, though wonderful and alien and new, was not a place where he would be welcomed with open arms. Too much had happened.

The trauma specialist had listened, not asked many questions, just let him talk. It was what Kavanagh had liked about him immediately. He didn't pry.

"Yeah, well…” Calvin shrugged.

"So, no dinner in the mess hall? I can get us something to eat here if you want. That is, if my company is okay. I know you're tired, but I thought you might like to see a friendly face. Aside from McKay, though that friendliness is debatable."

O'Rourke flashed him a smile and Kavanagh had to chuckle. "Dinner sounds good," he finally agreed. "Without company."

Allan nodded. "I'll see what they have and bring some back. See you in a few."

And then he was out.

Kavanagh slumped onto a chair and wondered what was going on.

 

* * *

 

"Why did you ask to go into the field?" Allan wanted to know.

Kavanagh picked at his food. It looked good, probably tasted nice, too, but he wasn't hungry.

"I thought it might be a good idea," he muttered.

"No, you didn't. You wanted to impress him."

"What?!"

The doctor smiled. "I have eyes, Calvin. You like Dr. McKay, you wanted to impress him. But I also noticed a closeness between him and Colonel Sheppard. Even if they are really not together, in his eyes there is no one else."

Kavanagh stared at the other man, dumbstruck. "And… and you just looked? You saw it by looking?" he stammered.

"No. Not just. Calvin, I came because there is nothing left on Earth for me. My partner was killed by the Goa'uld. He died saving others."

Kavanagh blinked. They had never talked about family while on the Daedalus, keeping it safe. He hadn't thought Allan was gay, though maybe he should have. His own sense of who might be gay or not had withered away a long time ago. With Rodney, he had hoped.

"I know you prefer men, like I do. I never had a female partner. A girl-friend in high school, but that was about it." O'Rourke smiled.

Kavanagh played some more with his food. "So?"

"So what?"

"You probably think I'm a fool."

"No. You fell in love. It's never foolish." There was a wistful note to Allan's voice. "But he's no longer on the market, hm?"

"No," was the slightly dejected answer.

“That’s what I thought. The Colonel?”

He put his fork down. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Okay, I understand." O'Rourke nodded.

The rest of the dinner was spent in companionable silence, interspersed with much safer topics. Kavanagh enjoyed it. For the first time he enjoyed company, and a part of him dared to thaw a little.

He couldn't smother the yawn when it happened and O'Rourke chuckled.

"You must be tired. How about I take care of the dishes and leave you to rest a little? I'll come back tomorrow to check on you, all right?”

Kavanagh just nodded, and when he finally slipped under the covers he just then noticed how tired he really was.

 

* * *

 

The room was still dark, but the first rays of the early Atlantis sun were already playing over the horizon. It wouldn't take more than maybe thirty minutes until dawn crept slowly into the City. The night shift would be replaced by the day shift as people woke more and more. Some scientists would finally crawl into their beds, or they would get themselves another pot of coffee and continue with whatever important project was keeping their attention.

For once, Rodney wasn't among them. Actually, he had crawled into bed around midnight, muttering about stupidity, lax attitudes and heads that would roll as soon as he could string two sentences together.

Sheppard lay on his side and watched his best friend and lover. Whenever he could catch a morning together with Rodney, woke up before the sometimes very hyperactive physicist, he would just watch the other man. It was a time when Rodney was completely still. Somewhere throughout the night Rodney had stolen John's pillow, his head half on the newly acquired one, and Sheppard had to smile.

Rodney was smiling in his sleep, just a slight turn-up on one side of his mouth moved in his sleep so that his other hand flopped over Sheppard's waist. John ran a caress up the strong forearm, felt the hair under his fingers, and he tenderly touched each of Rodney's digits, like a blind man exploring new territory. Rodney's arm tightened around his waist and the man snuggled closer with an indistinct mutter, making Sheppard smile more. He felt the sleeping mind through the bond, but he wouldn't touch it. Rodney had been exhausted when he had come in last night and he needed his rest. He wouldn't wake for hours, unless there was an emergency, and John would make sure he wasn't disturbed.

The close call with the Wraith was still haunting Sheppard. Like Kavanagh's sacrifice was on his waking mind. He didn't understand the otherwise so cowardly scientist. He didn't understand his reasons. Even though he had feelings for Rodney, it didn't warrant this…

"Think more silent thoughts," a sleepy voice groused.

Sheppard smiled and leaned over to kiss his lover on one naked shoulder.

"What's keeping you awake?" Rodney mumbled, eyes thin slits.

"Things."

"I love it when you get so explanatory and descriptive."

"Love you, too." This time the kiss was placed onto the nose.

Rodney's mumble was incomprehensive.

//Thinking about you and the Wraith and how lucky we got//

//Oh//

Rodney suddenly pulled him close, snuggling up to the slender form. John went easily, sighing softly as he let the other man hold him close. No words were exchanged, but the emotions flowing through the link were clear.

 

* * *

 

 _A hissing sound. Terror filled blue eyes. Claws sinking into his chest. Pain… ripping him apart…_

 

Kavanagh woke with a sharp gasp, heart hammering in his chest, and for a brief second he felt dizzy and disoriented. Blinking into the semi-darkness he recognized his own room on Atlantis. Home.

No Wraith.

No pain.

Sinking back into the pillow he stared at the ceiling and listened to the ever-present sound of the waves until he felt his heart rate go back to normal. Closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep was a totally different thing, and after half an hour he simply sighed and reached for his glasses. Dawn was creeping over the horizon anyway, so there was no real reason he shouldn’t get up and try himself at some research work, see how Rodney was faring… okay, skip that. He probably was still snuggled up against Sheppard, warm and secure anyway. Whatever.

A long hot shower woke him up some more and he dressed quickly, not really wanting to see the marks on his chest.

At 05:30 Atlantis standard time he wandered into the almost deserted mess hall, poured himself some freshly brewed coffee and picked up something close to a muffin. He slipped into a far end corner seat, directing his attention toward the laptop he had brought, and some of the equations he wanted to work over.

“Kavanagh?”

Starting he almost spilled his coffee, noticing absentmindedly that the liquid had already gone lukewarm, and grimaced.

“McKay,” he greeted.

“You’re, uhm, you’re up early. Should you be up and about already?”

“As long as I take it slow I’m released to full duty.”

Okay, it was not really an outright lie, but the idea to sit in his quarters with nothing to do but watch the waves for the next few days didn’t really appeal to him. Better face the McKay-snarkiness and get something useful done.

“Oh, good. That’s good. I, uhm, get myself … would you like ... maybe … one, too?”

Kavanagh blinked until he realized Rodney was talking about coffee.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “yes, that would be nice.”

There was a strange glance coming from blue eyes, but then Rodney wandered off. A few minutes later a steaming mug of fresh coffee was standing in front of him, and Rodney McKay sat opposite him, munching happily on some pancakes.

“You should try these,” he muttered between bites, “I never thought I’d say this, but they’re actually better than at home.”

“Some things have to be better here or we’d all be heading home.”

Rodney swallowed a forkful of food and watched him thoughtfully.

“Do you still want to go? I mean after… I could understand.” He shuddered. “Having a Wraith touch you like that is one experience I could live without.”

“Oh, and you know that where from exactly?”

Rodney stilled. For a long moment those blue eyes just looked at Kavanagh, then he nodded briefly as if accepting that accusation as true.

“It wasn’t the first one… the first Wraith that got its hands on me… looking at me like I’m a meal and not a person... I’ve been in Hive ships, in a cocoon, was under attack, scared shitless… I don’t bear any scars to prove it because I’ve always been lucky. I never thanked you, didn’t I?” he added as if in an afterthought.

Kavanagh shook his head. “No. No, you didn’t.”

“I should have. The thing is – nobody ever did something like that for me…“

“…and having me of all people do it makes your world squeak on its axis, I know. Don’t worry, I get the looks already.”

“What looks?”

Damn. He shouldn’t have let Rodney get to him again.

“The who-are-you-and-where-have-you-hidden-the-body-not-that-we-actually-mind looks. The what-nether-reasons-did-you-have looks. The who-do-you-think-you’re-impressing looks.”

“Calvin, I wouldn’t lie if I told you it hasn’t scared and confused the hell out of me, and we both know that I’m an awful liar – never play poker with me – but it doesn’t mean I’m not thankful.”

“Duly noted. Could we go back to irritating each other again now?”

 Rodney smirked. “I can do irritating. I have a lot of training in being irritating. Speaking of which – you do look like crap. Go rest. That’s an order.”

And he simply took his tray and walked away, leaving a slightly bemused Calvin Kavanagh behind. So Rodney didn’t want him in the lab? That remained to be seen…

 

* * *

 

Three days later he didn’t feel much better. He had received strange looks, heard whispers behind his back – or maybe it was just paranoia rearing its head, who knew? The colleagues hadn’t talked to him all that much before and they left him pretty much alone now. It was a relief and it was painful in one. Relief because he didn't have to talk to anyone, answer questions about what had happened. A pain because people avoided him like the plague. He had been alone before, but now he also felt lonely.

“Cal?”

O’Rourke stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Anything I can do for you, doctor?”

“You haven’t shown up for your exam. It’s time to take the stitches out, see if it’s healing, nothing's infected … you know.”

“I’m fine. I’m stopping by later.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it is ‘later’ already.”

“It’s only…“

“Eight. In the evening, Calvin. And from the looks of it you haven’t eaten much the past few days, have you? Buried yourself in work or whatever it is you’re doing here. Come on, let’s grab a bite, we stop by at the infirmary, I’ll take a look at your chest and then we could watch a movie or something, how does that sound?”

Kavanagh sighed. It sounded…

Looking up he saw the man waiting for his answer, smiling at him, long legs hugged by dark denim, lean frame leaning in the door, black tousled hair, green eyes sparkling… and suddenly it sounded not so bad anymore.

 

*

 

Two egg salad sandwiches and three cups of Athosian herb tea later in O’Rourke’s quarters, Kavanagh had to admit he felt warm and full and relaxed. The trauma specialist grinned at him, pulled his laptop out and connected it to some cables.

“I’m a TV junkie,” he said shrugging when he noticed Kavanagh’s questioning look. “I like my movies in movie quality.”

“You brought a screen?”

“Of course. What would you like to watch? I can offer ‘Finding Forrester’, ‘Good Will Hunting’, or hey, this one’s great, ‘Mr. Holland’s Opus’.”

Kavanagh stared at the other man as if he’d grown a second head.

“You do have a knack for teacher and brilliant-but-misunderstood-student relationships, do you?”

“No, but I figured to offer you ‘Contact’ would only bore you to death.”

“I think I’d rather be bored, thank you very much,” Kavanagh said slowly before he noticed the mischievous glitter.

 He threw the napkin at O’Rourke.

And started to feel even warmer when the other man laughed at him.

They ended up watching ‘Contact’ with Kavanagh rolling his eyes every so often or making remarks about the ridiculous physics, trying his very best not to think about the fact he was sitting next to a very attractive man on his bed.

 

* * *

 

Beckett had thought long and hard about his decision and he had finally asked Sheppard for a moment of his time. When John arrived in the infirmary he was only slightly surprised to find Rodney there. His lover had expressed his confusion about Carson asking him, too, the moment Beckett had called him over the com.

//Any idea?//

//None// Sheppard confessed. //But it must be important//

Yes, it probably was. Beckett looked serious.

"Okay, Carson, who's terminally ill?" Rodney asked out loud.

Beckett grimaced. "No one. It's not a medical problem. At least not yet. It could be, though, which is why I asked you to come here."

The confusion grew and John leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, shooting their physician a quizzical look.

"Aside from Elizabeth, I'm the only one who knows the full extent of what happened to you two," Carson began. "From a medical standpoint that's unacceptable."

Rodney's brows lowered over narrowing eyes.

"Injuries can be treated and I doubt you will be running around as a Kiowata off-world, aside from dire reasons. But should something happen to either of you and the other reacts to it, or should there be a problem reaching me as a medical doctor and you need someone else – someone who knows – we're short-staffed in that regard."

"Are you talking about telling this to someone else?" John asked levelly.

"Yes, Colonel, I am. We need a medical back-up." Carson's expression was firm, meeting the hard eyes of the other man. "We need a second doctor to know about your special connection and about your shape-changing capabilities, as well as how to treat a wounded Kiowata."

Rodney was silent – unexpectedly so – as he mulled that over. His eyes strayed to the rigid form of his lover.

//He's right, you know//

//I know. I just don't like it!//

"Who?" McKay only asked.

"Dr. O'Rourke. He's an intensivist, a trauma expert, and I trust him."

John frowned. //I met him. More or less. Nice guy.//

"We'll think about it," he only said out loud.

"Colonel, I can't stress enough how important this is. It's your health and safety," Beckett added.

"I'm aware of it. Thanks, doc."

John pushed away from the wall and left.

Beckett shot Rodney a look. The physicist looked a bit uncomfortable, but then he shrugged.

"We'll talk," he promised, then went after Sheppard.

He caught up with him at the nearest transporter.

//John?//

//Not here. Not now. Give me some time//

McKay didn't enter the transporter with him, feeling a brief moment of hurt worry, then he nodded briskly and walked off back to the lab. John sent a wordless apology, which he accepted, then he felt a normal shield slide into place. Sheppard needed to be alone, to think, and Rodney knew he had to give this a thought or two, too.

It was best done while working.

 

* * *

 

It became a regular occasion. Allan would drop by the labs, they would chat, if it was late the trauma specialist would pry him away from work, and they had dinner together, even if it was only a small sandwich. Now and then there were movies, or something else, and Calvin Kavanagh started to enjoy himself with the very pleasant company.

 

 

“I’d like to invite you over for dinner. My quarters, 21:00?”

Allan gave him a disarming smile, his face very neutral as he waited.

Kavanagh couldn’t suppress the amusement rising at the ease with which most of the non-military personnel had adapted to the military terminology. But he nodded. It had become somewhat of a habit for either of them to have dinner in the other one’s quarter, and that Allan saw the necessity to make it a ‘formal invitation’ puzzled him a bit. Oh, well.

“Shall I bring something?”

“Just yourself.”

Huh?

 

* * *

 

Walking into Allan’s quarters that night puzzled him even more because the room was dark. Not dark-dark, but not-quite-lit-dark. Had he misunderstood the time?

“Out here.”

Almost every room in Atlantis had a balcony and that was where Allan was. Stepping through the door Kavanagh blinked.

Due to Atlantis’ twenty-six-hour day it was already dark outside, but there was a bright full moon hanging over the ocean, illuminating the whole scenery. That, and at least a dozen candles. All over the balcony, placed in strategic places around the pile of cushions, the blanket and the – picnic?

“Hey. Make yourself comfortable. Wine? Or do you prefer a beer?”

“You have beer? And wine?” Kavanagh asked confused for a lack of a better response.

“Brought some with me on the Daedalus, thought I’d share it with you. So?”

“Wine, thank you.”

Allan poured him a glass of red wine and Kavanagh took it, glancing out over the ocean. It was summer on Atlantis and therefore not cold yet, and the incoming breeze carried the salty scent of ocean and beach.

“I know it looks tooth-achingly romantic with the candles and all, but when I saw this moon I couldn’t help it. A night like this deserves it. How’s the wine?”

He hadn’t even tasted it.

“What would you like, tuna or chicken, or… whatever this is the Athosians hunt. Tastes like lamb.”

“Tuna.”

Kavanagh felt confused. He had never had dinner with anyone like this. His past… relationships had never been like that. Armbruster had wined and dined him in a different way, mostly a little foreplay and then sex. The few occasions he had allowed himself to have an affair had been just that – brief, to the point, good-bye right after or in the morning. Never like this.

He felt off kilter and it wasn't something he was used to.

 

 

They sat in silence, enjoying their meals, watching the moonlight play with the waves. Kavanagh glanced over to his friend, feeling something warm and fuzzy pool in his belly. The flickering candles caused a soft glow on Allan’s calm features, making his eyes sparkle with gold…

Must be the wine. Definitely the wine.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly.

“Doing what?”

“This. Dinner, candles… the only thing missing is a violin suite in the background.”

Allan chuckled. “Right. And fireworks in the sky. This is the epitome of romance.” There was an easy smile on his features.

Kavanagh wouldn't be able to say what triggered the outburst, the smile or the whole setting, but he would go for the smile.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped all of a sudden.

Allan blinked, confusion in his eyes. “What?”

Kavanagh carelessly placed his glass on the ground, ignoring the sharp clink. He felt the sudden bitterness inside him explode in a sharp humorless laughter.

“Being ‘nice’. You must have heard the rumors already!”

“I have heard, but I haven’t listened,” Allan agreed.

“Sure!” Calvin snorted.

Atlantis was a rumor mill and everyone had something to say about everyone. And he knew just what people liked to say about him. 'Anal retentive' was even a compliment among the many descriptions he was given.

“I don’t listen to gossip. Cal, what’s wrong?

“This! All of this. What is this, damnit? Where’s the hidden camera, and who’s the laughing audience?” he exploded into Allan’s shocked face.

He didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to feel the sharp pang of betrayal again after he thought he had found something akin to a friend. He had never had real friends. People used him, picked his mind, stole his papers. Armbruster had taught him a lesson in so many ways, and Kavanagh still lived by those lessons learned. The moment he let anyone close he would pay for it.

“Calvin, I don’t… wait, you think this is a practical joke?” Allan blurted wide-eyed.

“What else?! Lots of effort for a fuck! Go to hell!”

It hurt. Like the Wraith cutting into his being and ripping it out. He couldn’t stand it any more and rose, heading toward the door. He didn’t want to be here anymore, see the man he had considered a friend and…

“Calvin, wait. Please!”

Maybe it was the ‘please’, maybe it was the tone but he stopped, breathing heavily, pushing down his emotions. He could hear Allan behind him, the slide of a drawer, wood…

“Here.”

Turning he glanced over his shoulder at the thing Allan showed him. A picture frame? Looking more closely now he discovered the picture of a man, fair-haired -- in a dress uniform?

“This is Major Sean Wallace. He died on August thirteenth, two years ago.”

Yesterday…

“He was a member of SG12. The circumstances of his death are classified.”

So, it meant there was something utterly wrong, disturbing or simply horrifying about that. Allan doubtlessly knew that, too.

“One of his team members told me, though. They were captured by a Goa’uld, I’ve forgotten which one in which pantheon, and he chose Sean as the first to be interrogated.”

Kavanagh paled slightly. He had heard of some of the interrogation techniques the Goa’uld preferred. None of them pleasant.

“Of course there was nothing Sean could have told him, so when he was finished with him he gave him over to his Jaffa as a… plaything.”

This time Allan’s so far dull voice cracked.

“And they were motivated, wanted to please their ‘god’, so obviously they got creative.”

Kavanagh felt the acid burn in his throat at the very thought. He had faced only one ‘interrogation’ so far - and had fainted before that had even started – but Ronon Dex could be one very scary guy. No doubt creative, too.

“They made his team watch and listen. He didn’t die alone.”

Oh god…

“Why are you telling me all this?” Kavanagh croaked.

“We were together for five years. He wasn’t asked and he didn’t tell, but he didn’t hide, either. And he thankfully never faced any ‘repercussions’. He was accepted among his peers.”

“Again, why are you telling me?”

“I loved him, Calvin, and when I lost him… that way… let’s just say, it’s not a coincidence I applied for transfer to Atlantis. It hit me hard, and… well, not that I wanted to follow him. He was Air Force for a reason, he wanted to protect other people, and he surely would want me to live. Want me to be happy again. When I met you on the Daedalus, when we started to talk… it touched something inside me, and that’s been growing ever since. This is no joke! I like you, Calvin Kavanagh, a lot, and I don’t want to hurt you, on the contrary. I care for you. I want to get to know you, the real you, because when I look at you, I don’t see the man those rumors describe. I see a man who has been hurt and has built walls around him as thick as Fort Knox, a man with a deeply ingrained sense of justice, a man who loves his job and fights teeth and nails for what he thinks is right. A man with a healthy sense of self-preservation. And a man full of fire and passion.

Do I want to fuck you? No. Would I want to know what you look like when you lose yourself in your passion? How you smell, taste, sound? How your skin would feel on mine? Hell, yes. Over and over again.”

It felt like a baseball bat to his gut, leaving him gasping for air and lightheaded. Allan’s green eyes were resting on him, watching him…

“I’m falling in love with you right now, Calvin Jason Kavanagh,” Allan said softly.

And that did it.

He fled.

 

* * *

 

It was one of those storms that hit Atlantis around late summer. It wasn't the huge hurricane that had threatened to destroy the City, but it was strong, gale force blasts beating against the ancient structure, and everything had been locked down. Inside the City there was barely any detectable movement from the stormy waters. Gate travel continued as before, everyone worked his or her project, and at night, when it was quiet, you could hear the howls like a far away whisper.

Kavanagh had found himself unable to sleep. Ever since the confession from Allan he had been avoiding the trauma specialist, his mind whirling with what was going on. Now he had sought out a deserted area, close enough to the main core of the city to be safe, but far enough that no one would stumble over him.

The rain was beating against the window panes and the waves were crashing into the piers below. Kavanagh watched, feeling strangely calmed by the violent spectacle.

Allan had said he was falling in love. With him. Good god, why him of all people? And what did O'Rourke want from him? Maybe it was a skewed way of thinking, maybe it was the pessimistic side in him that reminded him that no one gave him something for free. Another lesson learned.

So why would O'Rourke want this from him? Why would he want sex? Kavanagh was a physicist, O'Rourke a medical doctor. There was nothing he could give him knowledge-wise that would advance the other man. It had to be the physical part then.

But why him?

O'Rourke was handsome, he could get anyone, so why the suspected traitor? Why the man who had come back to a place where he was as alone as he was on Earth, with the difference that this was a mostly unexplored city of the Ancients?

There was no answer in the waves, in the water all around him.

And what answers he could give himself scared Calvin to death. He was terrified of the small spark that had been ignited inside him. A spark he didn't have the strength any more to fight.

 

* * *

 

A week had passed since that evening and Kavanagh had fled into the only safe world he knew: science. No one bothered him and no one asked if he was okay. No one noticed anyway. McKay was off world with Sheppard's team. Kavanagh's mind was still whirling with O'Rourke's 'confession' and whenever he recalled it, he also saw the sincerity, the warmth, the smile, the plea.

Why? he asked himself. Why not someone else?

There were more than enough handsome men out here. And Allan was drop-dead handsome, too. He could get whoever he wanted.

Why me?

"Cal?"

The soft, quizzical voice drew him out of his thoughts and Kavanagh looked up to see Allan standing in the doorway.

He had never really noticed that he was taller than him, just as slender, and that the dark hair was such a contrast to his fairer skin and the intense green eyes. O'Rourke liked to dress casually when he could, but right now he was wearing his doctor outfit.

Kavanagh pushed those thoughts aside.

"Hey," Allan said, smiling tentatively. "I was heading for dinner. I was wondering if I could interest you in the latest of culinary experiments?"

Kavanagh found himself smiling a little. "Okay. Uhm… now?"

"It's a good time. Still empty and the food's hot."

He hesitated. His project was running on a high and he hated to leave it alone.

"I could get us something and we eat here," Allan offered at his expression of hesitancy. He suddenly smiled and before Kavanagh could say something he added, "I'll do just that. You do whatever it is you're doing, I'll be back."

And he was gone, only to return half an hour later with two trays loaded with food and drink.

"Here you go. You can eat and still watch that doohickey of yours."

Kavanagh shot him an outraged look, but it withered in the face of the lop-sided smile. Damn the man.

"It's not a doohickey," he still said, voice serious and scolding. "It's an Ancient device, probably something related to the personal shield McKay discovered." He grimaced. "And which he depleted and which is of no use. This might recharge shields or it might feed them with more energy. I'm still trying to get to the core unit and find the general codes."

"Ah." Allan studied the small device that consisted largely of crystals and lots of Ancient circuitry.

They ate in silence while O'Rourke kept glancing at things that littered Kavanagh's lab. He had taken on several research projects that didn't need a whole team, mainly because rarely anyone liked him on a team and he felt better working alone. In a way he could relate to McKay on that matter. The man liked his peace and quiet, too. Sometimes he dropped off something he worked on with a fellow scientist whose area of expertise was probably more related to what he had thought was something else.

"You know, this looks a bit like my Uncle's radio shack," O'Rourke remarked, smiling.

Kavanagh felt something inside of him bristle. The smile caught him and he deflated a little, still shooting the other man dangerous looks. They went back to eating. Whatever it was, it tasted like meatloaf and potatoes, so Kavanagh didn't really want to know what it was supposed to be.

"Cal?" Allan finally said.

He looked up. The other man was serious. Something inside him knotted up. He had desperately wished to ignore what had been said the last time. He didn't want this discussed again, but part of him pleaded that it was true. It had to be real.

"I was serious the last time."

He swallowed hard and put down the fork.

"I meant it. I'm not playing games and there are no cameras. Cal, I like you. A lot. And I fell for you. Slowly. It developed over time. I want your friendship and I like what we do together. I fell in love with you."

There it was again. The word. Love. Kavanagh stared at the half empty dinner plate.

"Calvin?"

"I'm not sure this is good."

"Why?"

"You said you heard what they say about me."

"Yes. And I don't listen to it. I met you before we came here and what everyone tells me doesn't fit the man I got to know." Allan looked imploringly at him. "I made up my own picture of you. I like what I see. I want a chance, Calvin. Please? I mean, if you… we spent very nice evenings together and you didn't run when I touched you."

Sitting so close together. Closer than friends. Sharing the bed to watch a movie. Warm green eyes regarding him affectionately. A closeness that wasn't purely physical and still, there had been touches. A hand on his shoulder, on his arm, on his back.

Kavanagh exhaled shakily.

Yes, he had liked the contact. He could have put a stop to it then and there, but he hadn't.

"I liked it," he finally said. "I'm just not sure if there is more. For either of us."

"I think there is. Give us a chance, please?"

There were many reasons to say no. Just as many to say yes. The lonely part in him screamed at him to say yes, and it screamed the loudest. He wanted someone to share a bed with, to feel a warm body next to him, however long it would last – because he had no illusions. All this wooing and gentle coaxing was only getting Allan one thing: a body with him in bed he could fuck.

Kavanagh suppressed an ironic grin and schooled his features carefully. He looked into the deep green eyes and felt himself waver a little more in his opinion that this was a buddy fuck to happen.

"Okay," was all he managed.

Allan smiled. Not triumphantly. Just a smile. Happy. Relieved. Even loving. He reached out, a quizzical expression briefly on his features, and when Kavanagh didn't move, he touched one arm. His hand caressed the fabric of his jacket, exploring, the gaze never wavering from him. Their fingers brushed against each other and Kavanagh felt like a drowning man with a glass of water almost at his lips. Everything inside him was quivering with need while he remained so perfectly calm on the outside.

Golden sparkles tinted Allan’s green eyes as he slowly plucked the glasses from his nose, placing them carefully onto the table. And there were definitely sparks flying between them when he leaned in, hesitating for a second, a brief moment, question in his eyes, giving him one last way out…

With an explosive exhalation Kavanagh closed what little distance was left, bringing their lips together, carding his fingers through the thick black hair of the other man. The kiss was unexpectedly soft, a brushing of lips against lips, a gentle coaxing of a tongue asking him to open up, which he did.

Sighing softly he felt the body press against his, arms closing around him, hands stroking over his back, pulling him closer. Finishing the kiss Calvin closed his eyes, forehead resting on the other man’s shoulder, and Allan held him even tighter. Kavanagh was suddenly acutely aware of the other man’s body, his slightly increased breathing, heartbeat and body heat. There was a puff of warm air at his ear.

“I knew it,” Allan whispered.

“What?”

“You smell good… like the ocean.”

“We’re in a city that had been submerged beneath the ocean for ten thousand years.”

“I know. This is you, not the City. You smell like… home.”

Home? Never had anybody…

“Where is your home?”

Allan smiled at him, this soft warm smile that had floored him the first time he had seen it directed at him. It had reminded him of the looks a certain Colonel cast at a certain astrophysicist…

“Here. But I’m from Galway.” Allan ran his nails across one temple, brushing over the tightly bound hair.

Kavanagh found himself leaning into the caress and almost jerked back. It was already so familiar, so nice, he was having a difficult time holding back.

"How long will you work tonight?" O'Rourke asked.

"Ah, well, I…" Until he was finished, he thought. But now…? "Half an hour?"

The doctor nodded, kissing him softly again. "Want to come over? Movie? No nether intentions, Cal. Just… I'd love to finally hold you."

That had something very fuzzy and warm pool in Calvin's stomach. "Uh, okay. Half an hour. I can make it in half an hour."

He so sounded like McKay.

Allan nodded, kissing him a last time, then he detached himself and left the lab, Kavanagh's eyes following the tall, lean form all the way out. When O'Rourke was gone, Kavanagh drew a shaky breath.

Good god… what was he about to get into?

 

* * *

 

Rodney had kept half a mental eye on the mind-link to John and he knew that the moment Sheppard went sparring, that his lover was still thinking about all of this. When John came to his quarters two hours later, sweaty, bruised, but in a better mood than in Beckett's office – and all week -- Rodney only looked up briefly from his work. John gave him a wan smile and went into the shower. Afterwards, clad in sweat pants and one of those sinfully tight t-shirts that had Rodney fantasize about a lot of things he could do to that attractive body, John settled on the bed next to the physicist.

The smile on Sheppard's lips was almost mischievous and he leaned forward, pushing the laptop off Rodney's lap, kissing his lover. Rodney caught the dark head, threading fingers into the damp hair, pulling him close. John crawled onto his lap, settling over Rodney's thighs, deepening the kiss until McKay was groaning softly.

"You've been thinking," he gasped when they parted.

Hazel eyes were dark with arousal and Rodney wondered if it had been the work-out or if the Kiowata was taking over. As sensual as the alien life-form could be, it was also quite demanding. While Rodney usually ended up topping, he had a rather dominating and pushy bottom at his hands. And when it was the other way around, John using the link to channel the hypersensitivity into something incredibly pleasurable that drove Rodney wild, he usually ended up sore, spent and limp on the bed. Right now it looked like it could go either way. Sheppard was in a demanding mood and Rodney let himself go with the flow, answering the possessive kisses while also using his hands to get underneath that sinful shirt to access warm skin.

John moaned softly as he squeezed the tight ass with one hand, the other busy further up his back.

"Yeah," he managed. //God, Rodney!//

Yes, there was a nice hot spot there. Rodney liked to exploit them, have John writhe and beg and plead, but he knew that the other way around was just as intense because he himself had those hot spots, too. Some he had never known about had been found by Sheppard pretty quickly.

//And?//

Rodney left a light bite at the smooth column of throat, making John twitch his hips. He caught a flurry of emotions over the link, John's indecision whether he wanted Rodney inside him or to be inside his lover, so the physicist took over for now. He mouthed a perked nipple through the shirt, drawing a little moan of pleasure.

//Rodney…//

//You trust in Carson's judgment//

//Yeah. Yes, right there… oh…//

The t-shirt went and Rodney licked and tongued the delicious nipple, one hand still grasping the tight ass.

//Good//

Sheppard drew back, breathing hard, one nipple red and glistening, his face flushed. He pushed to his feet and stripped off the sweat pants, giving Rodney a nice view from his seated position. McKay began to open his own pants and shed his jacket, but before he was completely naked John stopped him.

//Let me. Like this//

There were more images and Rodney felt himself harden painfully.

//Want you… like this… now…//

Rodney fumbled for lube and the small tube was taken from his fingers as Sheppard took it upon himself to prepare himself. It was the hottest thing Rodney had seen him do yet. His hand was stroking his hard erection, blue eyes never leaving the slender body, watching each move, taking in the grimace of pleasure as Sheppard used his fingers to slicken up his entrance.

Pleasure rolled through the link, hot and heavy, and Rodney groaned.

//Now!// he whispered harshly. "John…"

Sheppard was suddenly there, kissing him, sliding over his lap, excess lube slickening his arousal, and ten he was right there, so tight, so hot, so incredibly slow. Rodney heard the moan, saw the grimace reappear as John lowered himself onto him, breaching him, and Rodney had to hold on not to just push up or pull him down.

The Colonel's eyes were dark with need and lust and pleasure and suddenly he did push down, making both of them cry out at the move. Rodney almost came then and there.

"Oh god," he groaned.

John sat on him, totally naked, and Rodney was still partially dressed, and it felt so dirty and erotic and incredibly hot and powerful in one. It was the same overwhelming sensation he had had when John had taken him a few nights back, playing another fantasy, bending over the table and really driving into him. Hypersensitivity be damned, he had clutched the desk and just felt, let John take the overflow of sensation and channel it into something that wouldn't let him black out from the power of it all.

Now… looking at his lover, it was the same. John wrapped his arms around his neck, their lips meeting into a sensual contact, tongues dancing against each other, and then Sheppard started to move.

Everything seemed to melt into just one focus for Rodney, into John, into the connection he had with John, and when climax hit him, it was like a supernova going off. He cried out his lover's name and John groaned, sinking forward into Rodney's arms. He was shaking and breathing hard, the mind-link awash with his emotions.

Neither man spoke of revealing John's abilities to O'Rourke for the rest of the night. Rodney was too busy with his Colonel for that.

 

* * *

 

In a way Allan was courting him. Kavanagh had no other word for it. They still met on the nights they both had time, watching movies or just having dinner. There were kisses, touching each other, but O'Rourke wasn't dragging him off to bed. He would come by the lab when their shifts overlapped and neither had any free time to spend, and they simply talked for a while or just had a quick snack together.

It was nice.

It made Calvin feel… strange.

Miles had been rather forward with his approach of the eighteen-year old physics student. He had offered private lessons, which had pretty quickly turned from studying to being a project. Kavanagh still remembered the lustful looks, the hands on his body, and him coming right then and there when Armburster had jerked him off. The older man had made it clear that he wanted one thing from Kavanagh, and back then he had been rather eager to give it. It had been an incredible pleasure, the man had known how to make him come in all kinds of ways, and while no boundaries had been crossed, something had been torn from Kavanagh that time.

O'Rourke wasn't trying to get into his pants. He was actually quite ready to leave it at sliding his hands under Kavanagh's shirt and just caressing him, but Calvin himself felt he needed to take this the next step.

He wanted Allan. He had started to have wet dreams about him. And much to his embarrassment he had already jerked off to his image in the shower.

He felt eighteen again.

So he acted. For the first time since they had gotten together, Calvin Kavanagh acted and initiated the next step. There was surprise in the green eyes of his lover, then Allan smiled into the kiss that grew and deepened.

Lips were claiming his, hard and soft at the same time, hands on his body, running over his chest, slipping under the shirt, caressing, stroking, pushing the fabric out of the way, exposing him to hungry green eyes, exposing the scars… he made a protesting sound, but Allan simply bent down and kissed the still sensitive flesh. His lips traced the most prominent of the four scars that had remained. It was still red and would only fade to white in time. It ran from just beside his left nipple downward. The others were red, too, but not so long, and the feeding wound was jagged but not deep. It wouldn't leave more than a faint patch of lightly scarred skin.

“You’re alive, Cal,” he whispered. “I saw this before.”

He had treated it. He had removed the stitches, had applied a salve, had checked the injury several times. But Allan had never touched it in such a manner, in this context, and Kavanagh felt strangely self-conscious.

And then O'Rourke directed his attention toward even more sensitive areas on his chest, making him sob and arch with the rush of sensation. Skin on skin, slick, hot, and fingers and lips and tongue all over him, slowly, carefully, lovingly and yes, right there, inside him, fullness, and now please, and oh gawd!!

Crying out with liquid fire consuming nerve endings, molten lava running down his spine, and more, even more, and yes, yes!! Hoarse screams of completion, swallowed by those talented lips, shuddering, trembling, right with him, moaning.

 

 

Lying on the pillows with deep, sated exhaustion, Kavanagh stroked the sweaty back of his lover, played with the damp black locks at his neck, feeling Allan sigh and slowly withdraw from his body, only to snuggle close again, head resting on his chest.

“We’re sticky,” Calvin muttered.

“Don’t care,” was the lazy reply. “Love you.”

 

* * *

 

They had flown to the mainland again, under the guise of Rodney testing something or other he hadn't made up but existed. It just wasn't a real test of the thing. It was John needing to stretch his Kiowata legs and Rodney coming along. It had almost been ten months now since the first transformation, and three months since the Chimera had returned to her home galaxy. Well, hopefully returned safe and sound and in one piece with seven crew members all alive and well. Sheppard had frequently tried out his shape-changing and it had become very easy and fluent for him. They went to abandoned areas to try out his shifting, but nothing beat the mainland.

Rodney watched the Kiowata playfully run and jump and kick back and whinny. For those early moments after the transformation, after weeks of being human, the horse took over for a short while and just enjoyed. Rodney felt it in his mind. He had never shielded himself against this happiness, because he felt the same.

Trotting over to him, John playfully nuzzled his head and Rodney scratched the dark brown cheeks, patting the muscular neck, and then told his lover to run. It was a ritual, John confirming he was good to go and Rodney reassuring him that it was okay to leave him alone.

Powerful muscles coiling under smooth, dark fur, the Kiowata was off. John was always pleading with him to ride along, to be with him, but Rodney didn't really like riding, though he knew it might be a good idea to learn it somehow. You never knew…

Now he leaned back against a tree and turned to the work he had to do, the tests he wanted to run, and absorbed himself in data. John's presence was in the back of his mind, enjoying his freedom, and McKay smiled to himself without even being aware of it.

 

 

It was late in the afternoon that John changed back, looking windblown and deliciously happy. Rodney didn't want to put a damper on the good mood, but he asked the burning question anyway.

"So… well let Carson tell O'Rourke? Get a back-up medic?"

John gulped down some water, then met the serious blue eyes. He finally nodded. "Yes. Not happy about it, but I understand the necessity. It's a risk we can't take. If Beckett isn't around and something happens to either of us because of the link, Elizabeth can run interference, but she can't treat any kind of injuries."

Rodney shuddered. He didn't want to think about injuries. John smiled softly and moved closer to him through the mind-link.

//Not saying there will be injuries//

//There will be// Rodney murmured. //Yes, there will be. Always injuries. Always scrapes and bruises and bullet wounds and people wielding knives and bugs biting you and life-sucking aliens and…//

//Rodney//

The soft voice drew him out of the haze of memories. He swallowed hard, feeling emotions well up inside him.

//We'll talk to Beckett// Sheppard told him. //And then we'll see how O'Rourke takes the whole news//

Rodney laughed softly. //He'll be as freaked as we all were//

//Probably// John moved physically closer as well, enjoying the contact.

They enjoyed the openness of the mainland, the warm air, the sun, the peace that was there for just a moment. It would be time to go back soon, before the sun set, and they both decided to make the most of it.

 

* * *

 

Kavanagh was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It would drop. He knew it. No one had ever taken a romantic interest in him. Armbruster had used him. Later he had had one-night stands. It had been just for the momentary gratification, or because someone needed a rebound fling after a bad relationship, and sometimes it was just pure need to feel someone slide into him. So Allan O'Rourke fell into the same category for him. This was temporary. There would be a day when the doctor told him it was over, that he had enough, and then Calvin would be alone again.

Allan O’Rourke was a good-looking man, all tall, dark and handsome, and Kavanagh had seen more than one woman bat her eyelashes at the nice doctor. He wasn’t entirely sure Allan would drop him for one of them, but he expected him to do so for another man. Because there was a catch, there had to be. Allan wanted him for something, but he had no idea what that might be. Well, except for the sex, but that he could get elsewhere, so what was it? Kavanagh was sure that one day his lover – yeah, right – would not appear on his doorstep to a date, would walk in hours late with this fake smile on his face that said, ‘sorry, darling, I was kept’ but truly meant ‘I totally forgot about you’. Or he wouldn’t show up at all and shower him with apologies the next morning…

For now he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the attention and the evenings together, the warmth the other man presented. Warmth and safety and a way out of the loneliness. Not every night was filled with sex, but most of them. Sometimes they just lay together, Allan running his hands over Kavanagh's body, and they watched something on the screen.

Nice.

Too nice.

It would end.

It was when O'Rourke didn't come to their next date that Kavanagh felt a slight stab of premonition. Allan had been late before, of course. He was a doctor and if there was an emergency case, he would be later than planned. But he had never missed a date completely. So the physicist had gone to bed, read some articles, and dropped off to sleep. He didn't see Allan the next morning either and he wondered where he was.

He hadn’t thought that this day would come so early, though. And he hadn’t thought it would hurt so much.

Kavanagh found out just what had kept the other man from coming over as promised when he heard the first gossip among the scientists that refugees had come through the Gate.

He heard the truth from McKay, of all people.

"Lorne's team came in hot," Rodney said to someone else, Kavanagh just listening in. "There were about a dozen or two refugees from the planet. Lots of injured. Carson's in over his head. The third wave just arrived and it's a mess down there."

Kavanagh tried not to jump up and run to the medical facilities to check how Allan was. He held on to his coffee mug and feigned disinterest. It lasted all five minutes and then he strode out of the mess hall and toward the medical wing.

Walking into the infirmary had him stepping into purgatory. It was a mess – people running around, carrying things, shouting things – and there was blood. Lots of it.

“Dr. Kavanagh, are you hurt?” An exhausted nurse brushed part him, stopping for a second to look him over. There were rust colored splatters on her scrubs…

“No, I’m just looking for Dr. O’Rourke…”

“Then please do so outside.”

And with that she firmly started to push him out before rushing back into the chaos.

There was a commotion somewhere further back, someone was yelling and screaming, and it sounded desperate and in pain. A loud clattering sound followed, then more cries, a roar like an angry bear, and Kavanagh saw a burly man in native garb storm toward the exit – right toward him. There was a security detail all of a sudden, grabbing the man, wrestling him to the ground. He still fought, crying, tears on his face, teeth bared. Beckett was there, jabbing a needle into the man's arm, and finally there was some quiet.

Kavanagh felt his heart thud in his chest, his adrenaline higher than before, and part of him wanted to run and crawl into his bed.

"Get him to one of the empty rooms," Beckett ordered. "I'll be right there."

The Scot suddenly looked at Kavanagh and frowned briefly, then turned back to his staff, barking orders. When everyone was busy with his or her task, Beckett's attention was on Calvin again.

"Dr. Kavanagh?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Can I ask a favor of you?"

Kavanagh tensed a little. "What favor?" he asked suspiciously.

"I need someone to take Dr. O'Rourke back to his quarters before I do the same to him that I did to our grieving husband."

There was a knot in Kavanagh's stomach and he fought for composure. "I'm not a baby-sitter, Dr. Beckett," he told the medic, trying to project his normal attitude.

He was probably failing miserably because the comment got him a smile.

"No, you're not, but you and Allan are friends. He's prone to listen to friendly advice from non-medical personnel." Before Kavanagh could say something, Beckett raised a hand. "Allan has been in surgery for the past twenty hours. He lost the last patient due to complications. You just saw her husband trying to tear these facilities apart. Allan needs rest."

The knot intensified and Kavanagh found himself nodding, much to his chagrin. Beckett smiled again and led him to the back where the surgical rooms were. The knot turned into a fist when Calvin saw one of the other doctors examining O'Rourke. There was an angry bruise forming on the man's neck and face. Everything about him reflected exhaustion and pain, and when Allan looked at him, Calvin cringed a little. The usually sparkling green eyes were dull, his skin had a grayish tinge… exhausted didn’t even start to describe it.

"Take him to his quarters," Beckett could be heard. "And I don't want to hear any protests," the medic added, addressing his colleague.

O'Rourke slid unsteadily off the bed and Kavanagh felt himself twitch forward, as if to help him. Allan looked stubborn and determined as he made his way to the exit. Calvin kept an eye on him, silent until they reached O'Rourke's quarters.

"Cal?" Allan asked, voice raspy.

Kavanagh winced. "Yes?"

"Could you…? Please?"

The expression in the green eyes was so tired and exhausted, Calvin felt his defenses break. He entered the semi-dark room and accompanied Allan over to the bed. The trauma specialist started to strip, each move leaden and without grace.

"Come here," Kavanagh murmured and helped with the shirt, hands briefly brushing over the neck injury.

O'Rourke swayed a little.

"You think you can manage a shower?"

"I hope so," was the whispered reply. "I smell."

Kavanagh smiled as he undid the pants and slid them down the long legs. O'Rourke stepped out, holding on to the physicist's shoulders.

The shower was an unerotic affair, a necessity, and Calvin pushed the other man toward the bed. His eyes were on the bruises again.

"He got you," he murmured.

Allan closed his eyes. "He was angry. He lost his wife. It was bad, Cal. Really bad. There were so many of them, some terribly mutilated by the explosions. We had to take one little girl's arm. The woman… she bled out. She had been speared by something that tamponaded the wound, but she had already lost too much blood and it just gushed out… We couldn't get it in fast enough…"

His voice was almost toneless and Kavanagh felt something inside him shudder. He was at Allan’s side before he even realized it, wrapping his arms around the slightly trembling form wordlessly, feeling the usually strong man in his arms mourn silently.

Kavanagh didn't think twice to get onto the bed with him and Allan curled up close, an arm over Calvin's waist, burying his face against his side. A tremor went through the lean frame and Kavanagh held him, placing soft kisses onto the bare skin. His hands stroked over the warm flesh and something inside of him trembled in turn.

"Get some sleep," was all he managed.

He was ill-equipped to deal with such emotional outbreaks. They got him on a totally wrong foot. Especially sad emotions.

Allan fell asleep after a while, a limp weight next to him, and pale blue eyes studied the injuries. After a while Kavanagh reached for the book on the side table. It wasn't his, but he had seen Allan read it and he had read over the contents on the back, found it interesting. He wasn't tired, but he also didn't want to leave for his own quarters, so he started the novel and kept an eye on the sleeping man beside him.

 

* * *

 

Kavanagh woke to the realization that he had dozed off fully clothed in O'Rourke's quarters, in his bed. His glasses were askew, the book had dropped onto the floor, and Allan was still at his side, sleeping soundly. Kavanagh took off the glasses and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't planned on staying the whole night. There had been a project waiting in one of the smaller labs, and he had intended to get on with it, but now…

It was close to five, the sun was not yet up, and the light was still a bit murky. Kavanagh untangled himself from the other man. He stretched, feeling a bit stiff, and padded over to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, for the first time actually noting that he had a spare tooth brush at the trauma specialist's place. There weren't any clothes so far, and right now he really needed them.

A soft noise alerted him to a presence and Calvin turned, looking into the green eyes of Allan O'Rourke. Dark hair tousled, looking sleepy and still exhausted, even after getting some rest, Kavanagh felt a wave of affection that scared it.

"Hey."

"Hey," came the rough reply.

The bruises were by now in full bloom and before he could stop himself, Calvin reached out to touch. He let his hand fall away, embarrassed. O'Rourke smiled a little, then grabbed his hand and pulled him close. Kavanagh didn't resist, didn't fight. He just…took those last few steps and met the gentle kiss with a hunger that shocked him even more. Touching the naked skin he held his lover close.

Allan trembled a little, the effects of the day before still not out of his system, and Kavanagh wrapped his arms tightly around the slender form.

"You didn't have to stay," Allan murmured, burying his head against his neck.

"I fell asleep." But I wanted to stay, he thought.

Allan chuckled a little. "Yeah. Bed's nice."

He couldn't argue with that. They had spent some time in that bed, in various ways of undress, various ways of having sex, touching each other. Kavanagh was intimately acquainted with the bed and its owner.

"I've to be back," O'Rourke murmured.

"Beckett told you to rest."

"I did. You don't know how many people there are, Cal. How many need help."

"How many hit you for your efforts," Kavanagh said coolly.

"He was grieving."

"He hit you!"

Green eyes showed exasperation. "He won't do it again. It's the first time I had a volatile and violent patient. He lost his wife, Cal. After he lost his home. He overreacted and I was in the way."

Kavanagh wanted to push the other man against the wall, kiss him into submission, keep him here, but he didn't. He just looked at O'Rourke, then nodded once and released him.

"Dinner?" Allan asked, a hopeful note in his voice. "I know I missed the day before. And I'm sorry I didn't let you know. Let me make it up to you?"

"There's nothing to make up to. You had an emergency. It happened."

But at the time Kavanagh had felt different. Still… looking into those eyes, seeing such vulnerability there, he couldn't keep up the façade.

"Dinner then?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Eight?"

Kavanagh nodded and it got him a smile. Allan kissed him again, then headed for the shower. As much as Calvin wanted to stay, watch the play of muscle under smooth skin, enjoy the show, he had to leave. The project was still on his mind and he would be late for work if he lingered.

"Tonight," he said softly.

Allen smiled at him from the shower. It was a smile full of promise and delight.

And the day passed in a hazy blur for Calvin Kavanagh.

 

* * *

 

Dr. Allan O'Rourke's reaction to what Beckett told him about Sheppard was rather… normal. Rodney couldn't put it any other way. The green eyes sparked with interest, but there was no shock, no surprise, no disgust. It was like watching a carbon copy of Carson, with the medical interest, the questions rising inside the other man, and McKay knew that they had made the right decision.

"I'll forward all files to you," Beckett told his colleague. "All of this isn't public knowledge, like I told you. Only Elizabeth knows."

O'Rourke nodded. "I understand. In case of questions…"

"As long as you don't stick needles in me for the pure of it," John said calmly, "I'll answer whatever you want to know."

And he would change into his Kiowata form to help, Rodney caught that thought. Sheppard was thawing when it came to showing what he was to others.

"Thank you. I appreciate the trust."

Rodney didn't say anything, just studied the trauma specialist. He didn't know O'Rourke as well as Beckett, but he knew how important it was to have someone else there. It was vital. Better him than Biro or whoever else hung around this place.

//I trust him, Rodney. Really// John sent.

//Instinct?//

//Kinda//

Okay. He left it at that. They would have to wait and see what came of the new cooperation.

 

* * *

 

Fingers brushed over his skin, igniting nerve endings and leaving a fiery path. Calvin felt the pressure of a leg, parting his thighs, hand sliding beneath the waistband, and he bucked into the teasing touch, moaning and clenching his hands into his lover’s shirt.

“God, I love it when you let go like this,” Allan whispered hoarsely into his ear, “I love to hear you come undone and moan…“

He froze.

 

 _… a husky voice …_

 _… clouded dark eyes …_

 _“I love the sounds you make. C’mon, moan for me, baby… yeah, that’s it … let me in, baby, let me in … “_

 

The words were repeating themselves in his mind over and over, feeling like a bucket of ice water thrown over him.

Calvin bolted.

 

 

He clutched the sink in the bathroom with white knuckled fingers, struggling to get himself back under control, willing his nausea down as he tried to take deep breaths. Looking up he caught his reflection in the mirror – wide eyes, pale face – and he had to look away again. That wasn’t him! That wasn’t him…

There was a soft sound from the bathroom door and Calvin squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the expected question, the reproach…

“What did I trigger?”

Allan’s voice was soft, his tone quiet.

“Trigger?”

“Yes. That was a flashback if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he snapped.

Please, don’t… just don’t.

“Calvin, I’m a physician, I used to work in an emergency room, among other things. I have some experience with abuse survivors.“

Calvin straightened and brushed past his lover back into the living area.

“I still don’t know what you mean. I wasn’t raped or something.”

“I vote for the ‘something’. Calvin, I said abuse. That could contain rape, but doesn’t necessarily have to. First of all it’s about abusing and using someone, taking advantage of someone’s situation.”

Allan was still speaking softly, leaning against the wall and watching him, not trying to get into his personal space, and Calvin found he was grateful for that. He couldn’t have handled pity or comfort in form of touch right now.

“What did he do to you?”

“Allan…

“Please? I want to know what I’m in here. I don’t want to cause anything just because I don’t have the slightest idea I’m wandering through a minefield right now.”

“Oh, thank you very much, that makes me feel so much better now.”

“So you are feeling bad.”

“I’ve never talked about it,” he muttered, his inside very much at war with himself, for one part wanted to talk, spill it, have Allan know and understand; the other was pretty much repelled by the idea itself, not wanting Allan to know anything and certainly not expecting him to understand.

Allan tilted his head questioningly.

“If you don’t want to talk about it now or with me, that’s okay. But you have to get it out of your system sooner or later, or it’s going to poison you even more. I say it has eaten pretty much of you already, hasn’t it?”

And for the first time since he had bolted from the bed he looked at his lover, meeting jade green eyes and utter calmness, and just nodded.

“Can I sit with you?” Allan asked softly and again he could only nod.

When the mattress dipped beside him Calvin crossed his arms in front of him, pretty much hugging himself, and – very slowly – started to speak. He didn’t stop for the next thirty minutes and all his lover did was listen.

 

 

“As you can see, I wasn’t abused.”

“That’s pretty much abuse in my book, and everybody else’s, too. He took advantage of you, of your youth, and he used just that to get what he wanted. I can see where you’re coming from now.”

Allan was still quiet, and still there were no words of pity or suggestions ‘to get over it’. That he knew too well, too.

“You know,” Allan slipped off the bed and toward a cabinet, “I have some good old-fashioned whisky in here somewhere. Assuming you could use a drink, that is.”

“I’m not a victim!”

“No. You’re a survivor. He used you.”

“That seems to be the story of my life,” Calvin said bitterly.

“What?”

“Oh please! Can we stop pretending now? All this wining and dining me thing? You make it look really good, O’Rourke, almost convincing. What’s in it for you?”

 Allan stared at him from large green eyes.

“What the heck are you talking about, Cal?” he asked very slowly.

“Sure you’re lonely, I give you that. We all get that sooner or later in this hellhole, and we all could use some comfort and a warm body to cling to when the nights are getting cold. And it’s getting pretty damn cold in the Pegasus galaxy. What are you seeing in me, your dead partner?”

O’Rourke had gone very still and pale at the harsh words, and Kavanagh felt something inside him flutter at the sight, but he just couldn’t stop the words that were flowing out of his mouth, laden with all the bitterness and disappointments that had built up in the past ten years.

"Sean died two years ago, Calvin. I'm over it."

"So that's why you still have his photo and raise a drink on his death day?!"

"Yes," O'Rourke said quietly. "Because I honor his memory. I loved him. He died for others to live, for me to live. He died doing his job. It's why I am here today. We were together for five years. He wasn't a fling either. But he's dead. It doesn't stop me from living now… from loving again."

"And I'm alive. Alive enough to warm your bed until the next fuck?"

“You’re accusing me of using you? Cal, that’s low," Allan replied. "I don’t think I ever gave you reason to believe I’m not honest with you. Speaking of replacements – how am I to know that I’m not a substitute for McKay? It was him you fell in love with after all. I told you I love you, and I meant it. I didn’t expect to hear it from you, but I had hope you’d at least feel it. ”

Kavanagh’s eyes widened and his breath hitched with those words.

He had… hadn’t he?

“I’m over McKay,” he got out.

“Maybe. But I don’t know that, do I?”

This time Allan’s voice was very soft, more sad than anything, and Kavanagh felt his throat go dry.

He was right.

God, Allan was right.

But… what did that mean?

Could he…?

And if…?

“I’m sorry. I need time, I need… sorry.”

And he ran. Again.

 

* * *

 

Kavanagh was horribly confused and hurt by the argument. Too much was crashing down on him, images of a past long gone, mixing with the rather pleasant present. There was Miles Armbruster, the man he had loved when he had been a freshman. A genius freshman, used by others, abused by his professor. He had loved the man, as much as an eighteen-year old could truly say he loved, and he had been used.

Then there was Rodney McKay, the man he actually admired, the man he had fallen in love with. Sheppard had taken that chance from him, though if Kavanagh was realistic, and he was, he had never had a chance. Even without Sheppard, they wouldn't have been able to get together.

So now there was Allan, and Allan confused him. He expected betrayal, but Allan claimed he loved him.

Kavanagh needed to talk to someone and the only someone he could think of was the man he had lusted after. Had. Past tense. Because he was over it. Rodney had his Colonel, Kavanagh… he thought he had had a chance, but after the argument…?

He sighed.

There was no one he could call a friend, aside from McKay, and it was where he finally ended up. Rodney was in his lab, talking with Zelenka about some new project. Zelenka caught sight of him and McKay turned, frowning a little.

"I need to talk to you," Kavanagh only said, voice neutral, stance tense.

"What about?" was the suspicious reply.

"Not here. In private."

The brows drew even further down, but Rodney pushed the papers he had been holding at Zelenka and gestured at Kavanagh to lead the way. He chose one of the empty project rooms, one that hadn't been in use ever since Miller had blown up something that had spilled bright orange paint over one wall. The paint still clung to the walls and it looked garish.

Kavanagh closed the doors.

 

 

Rodney wondered what the heck was going on. Kavanagh was pacing. He looked troubled, even worried, and there was a slightly ragged edge to him. The pale blue eyes were distant, a frown on his forehead, and there was a tension in the lean frame that had Rodney ache in sympathy with the muscle pain.

Kavanagh bit his lower lip, still restlessly moving around.

Rodney watched, waiting.

Nothing happened.

"If this is about me watching you pace, it's a waste of time."

Kavanagh glared at him, then sat down abruptly. "It's about Allan. He thinks he's a substitute for you."

Rodney's mouth dropped open and he stared at his former arch rival in disbelief.

"Oh, very nice imitation of a goldfish, McKay," Kavanagh snarled.

Rodney snapped his mouth shut. "Allan? What Allan? And what is he a substitute for. Oh!" Realization had hit him.

//Oh…// John echoed over the bond.

Kavanagh stared at him for a moment, shock settling in. "You didn't… know…"

"About you and some guy called Allan? No, I didn't. It's not exactly in the daily memos, Kavanagh!" Rodney snapped.

His mind was supplying him with images he so didn't need.

//But you day-dream anatomically correct// Sheppard commented.

//Shut up!//

"What Allan are we talking about?"

"O'Rourke."

//I knew it!// John triumphed.

//You didn't!//

"He's a doctor," Kavanagh added.

"Saw him before," McKay told him. "Nice guy. So you and he…?"

Kavanagh shrugged.

"Good for you. And where's the problem now?"

"I told you, McKay. He thinks he's a substitute for you!"

"Why? What did you do, Kavanagh? Call out my name?"

Calvin flushed. "No!"

"How come he knows about you lusting after me then?"

Oh, that sounded so bad.

//Lusting after you is fun// John could be heard.

//So not helping!// Rodney snapped.

"He figured it out," Kavanagh murmured.

"Why does everyone know about me?" McKay exploded. "I didn't know about you, I didn't know about Sheppard until… until…" He gesticulated. "Well… M7B-377. I'm always the last to know!"

Kavanagh seemed to sink in onto himself. He clasped his hands, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

"I'm over you, McKay. I like him," he said softly. "He isn't a substitute, but I told him… about Armbruster… because I had.. a reaction to something he said. And one word led to another. He said… I'm an abuse victim. I argued I wasn't. And then I told him that he's just using me, too."

Rodney stared at Kavanagh. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

//He told O'Rourke// he whispered.

//He trusted him and he pushed him away. He's got issues//

//I would. With what happened to him, I would for sure!//

Rodney sat down as well, meeting the pale blue eyes. Kavanagh looked tired. Rodney wasn't a shrink. He knew zilch about whatever someone was supposed to say or do in such a situation. He also hated mushy emotions, at least when he had to talk about them to someone other than John. But he also wanted to help.

"You love him?" McKay asked matter-of-factly.

"I… I like him. I like being with him."

"So you love him?"

"I guess…" Kavanagh sighed. "I think it's love. The last time I loved someone… it was different. And in the end I was dropped and thrown away."

"It doesn't have to be this way again. You're a grown man now, Kavanagh. And O'Rourke isn't Armbruster." Rodney grimaced. "No one can be Armbruster. The man was an asshole and a loser. He used his students to get his brownie points."

Kavanagh winced.

//Very subtle, Rodney//

//What? You want me to coddle him?//

John snorted. //You're not the coddling kind, I forgot//

//I'm not and he has to get over this// Rodney argued.

//He was abused, Rodney! You don't just get over it!//

//And you're the expert?//

//No, but doubts and fear aren't easily banished//

Rodney sighed softly and rubbed his forehead. "You love the guy," he said out loud. "And he said he loves you. I think it's time to jump over that shadow of yours, Calvin. Trust him."

"What if I am that rebound fling for him?"

"What makes you think that? Did he tell you?" McKay challenged.

"No. No, he didn't. But… his partner died, he came here… and there are others a lot better suited for the bed bunny part!" he almost yelled.

Rodney frowned.

//He's going for the 'looks count more than brains'// John translated.

"Rubbish," the physicist muttered, as much an answer to Kavanagh's exclamation, as it was a comment for John's.

Kavanagh frowned.

"You think everyone's just going for looks? Get your brain working, Kavanagh! You don't decide what O'Rourke finds attractive and wants. He likes you? Good for you. Just because you aren't Mr. July on some cheap supermarket calendar for 99 cents doesn't mean no one can find you attractive!"

That got him a stare.

"People have different tastes, and if you're O'Rourke's kinda guy, good for the two of you! I doubt you'd let him have a go at you if you didn't find him at least a little bit attractive, too." Rodney smirked as a blush crept up the pale features. "See?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is? Only handsome people get to have sex?"

Kavanagh was silent. "I just don't see what he does," he muttered after a while.

"You're questioning this way too deeply."

"Wouldn't you?" the man cried. "In my shoes? If Sheppard suddenly showered you with affection? Oh wait,” came the sarcastic snarl, “he does. You got your jock. But I'm no hero! I'm not the lead scientist! I'm… you know what they all say about me! I'm a coward, a traitor, a prick… and so much more. I can't be someone else and I know I push people away, but he says he loves me!"

Rodney blinked. "So?"

He was still a bit stunned about the ‘you got your jock’ part, but he let it slide. For now.

//So he's waiting for the other shoe to drop// John said softly. //He's got issues. Really bad issues. Trust, for one//

"This was a bad idea," Kavanagh said and tried to push past Rodney, but he held him back.

Blue eyes bore into pale blue.

"You love him. He loves you. Get your head straightened out. You can run again, but there's nothing on Earth that will give you what you have here."

With that he let him go.

//Way to go on the psychological front, Rodney//

//Oh do shut up. Kavanagh has to come to a decision. He either stops running or he can just lock himself in an empty room and never come out again!//

John was thoughtful, contemplative. //You doubted us, too//

//I didn't//

//You did. You thought I was joking about the attraction//

Rodney snorted. //So?//

//So all you science geeks seem to think the jocks can't fall in love with you?//

//First of all, O'Rourke is not a jock. He's a doctor.//

Sheppard laughed. //So?//

//Not military//

//You can have non-military jocks. And the guy's a looker//

Rodney frowned. //What?//

//Jealous?//

//Of him? No, really not//

Rodney had by now walked back to his lab, but he by-passed it to get to Sheppard's office, which was on a different level and closer to the control room. John was alone at the moment and battling paper work that he hadn't been able to delegate to Lorne.

When Rodney walked in, he looked up and gave him a smile.

"Not jealous?" he asked out loud.

"No. No one can compete with me."

"Full of yourself much?" Sheppard teased.

"I just know my market value."

"You're not exactly the shy type."

Rodney ambled over to him. "No. I'm also not going to fall into the bottomless pit of insecurity like Kavanagh."

"Different history," Sheppard told him. "He's been burned."

"I know. Still no reason to throw everything away."

John shrugged and leaned back. "I've known people who, once burned, never got back on their feet. Love can hurt you that badly."

Rodney regarded him closely and Sheppard smiled easily.

"Not me. You'd know by now."

"I hope so. No nasty surprises."

"Not from me."

McKay sat down on the edge of the desk and ran a caress over Sheppard's arm. John gave him an affectionate look.

"I know you love me," Rodney said openly. "Because the mind-link tells me so. Maybe I would be a bit suspicious as to why you're attracted to me if not for that."

"You've got nothing to be self-conscious about, Rodney," Sheppard said softly.

McKay leaned down and kissed him, their lips brushing together.

//I love you the way you are// John added. //The attitude, the ego, the mind, the body, the whole package. I don't want perfection//

//Oh, thank you// was the sarcastic reply.

//Perfection is never perfect//

//You are// Rodney told him seriously.

Sheppard gave a wry laugh. //So not. I have too many faults to count and just because someone lusts after my body doesn't mean he loves what comes with it//

Rodney took his mouth into another firm, demanding kiss, deepening it slowly until John was moaning softly.

//This helps// he said, letting Sheppard know it was the mind-link he was talking about. //Knowing you. No hiding. Just… us//

And there truly was no hiding. This bond was complete openness. No lies, no hidden truths. They knew and trusted each other implicitly.

//Yeah// John murmured. //Even if it means having a needy Kiowata clinging to you//

//Don't mind the clinging. I like clinging//

The next kiss involved more open lips and tongues.

//Kavanagh will figure it out// Sheppard told him. //O'Rourke's a nice guy//

Rodney let his fingers play over one of his lover's hands, tracing the strong digits, exploring them in detail. It was something they did often – just touch. He knew John enjoyed it, wherever his fingers caressed him, and he smiled a little.

"They could use a connection, too," he remarked.

John laughed. "Yeah, right. Who would you want to see as a Kiowata? Kavanagh or O'Rourke?"

McKay grimaced. "I didn't mean one of them has to go through that! I said they needed a connection, to know the truth, to stop lying and hiding and running. Well, Kavanagh has to stop doing that," he added. "O'Rourke must be the most patient guy in this galaxy. Or in both galaxies."

Sheppard interlaced their hands, squeezing Rodney's. "He takes second place to you." //I didn't know you had the patience to let me freak as often as I did, and still be there, be there for me// He slightly ducked his head. //It was a new experience for me. You are a completely new experience for me//

Rodney scowled at him. //You're getting extremely mushy, Sheppard//

//I like being mushy around you//

That got him an eye-roll and a groan. "Good god!" Rodney muttered.

John smiled and pulled him into a little kiss. "And you got me for life."

"I knew I should have read the small print!" the physicist complained, but the light in the blue eyes negated the words.

"You should. Sorry. No return or refund." Sheppard grinned lop-sidedly.

"Who'd take you back anyway? The pound?"

Sheppard laughed and gave him a last kiss. "I need to get ready for debriefing the guys who came in an hour ago."

Rodney nodded and their hands slowly untangled. "You good?"

"Very good. See you later."

McKay left, feeling strangely warm and tingly, without even coming close to sex, and John's presence in his mind was a bonus. He caught himself from whistling and made it back to his lab without an accident. Zelenka just shot him a brief, quizzical look, then the Czech turned back to his own work with a little smirk.

Rodney glared at him, then pointedly sat down in front of the laptop that told him he still had to wait another fifteen minutes for the test run to be complete. So he had fifteen minutes to contemplate Calvin Kavanagh. An interesting way to pass the time.

 

* * *

 

They had worked quietly side by side, Rodney pouring over the data he had pulled from a device discovered in one of the unexplored areas and Kavanagh doing his own little project. Now and then he would shoot curious glanced at what McKay was doing until Rodney gave a loud sigh and turned abruptly, catching Kavanagh looking at him.

"Today's 'Staring at Rodney' day, right?" he snapped.

Kavanagh felt defenses flare, his face closing off. "I was merely thinking."

"About what?" Rodney demanded. "Me or how you can't get your mind off the gorgeous new trauma specialist?"

He flushed, then a flare of jealousy made itself known. What the fuck was McKay doing, thinking about Allan as gorgeous?

Rodney smirked that 'gotcha' smirk and Kavanagh gritted his teeth.

"I'm not," he growled.

"Not thinking about me? Good. Because you'd waste precious brain power. Not thinking about O'Rourke? One question: why?"

Kavanagh felt even more flustered.

McKay turned and faced him completely, that demanding expression on his face.

"None of your business," Kavanagh managed.

"It is if whatever it is you're working on blows up in your face. I don't do first aid. Not to mention getting killed myself."

"It's not going to blow up, McKay," was the acid answer.

"Good. Good. Now, you either go and clear your head or you quit thinking about hot bods."

"I wasn't thinking about him!" he cried.

Blue eyes narrowed a little. "And I repeat: why not? You two have been walking around each other on egg shells ever since that," he gestured with his hands, "whatever happened."

"Are you watching me, McKay?"

"It's hard not to since you keep getting under my feet!" Rodney snapped.

Kavanagh took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He felt a faint headache creeping up.

"Why did you take me back?" he asked all of a sudden.

McKay gave him a surprised look.

"I left after everyone thought I was a traitor," Kavanagh spat. "I was home, on Earth, away from the Wraith, and only with Goa'uld to worry about. O'Neill didn't say much, but the way he looked at me… I knew I was probably never going to get another chance. And then he asked me, out of the blue, weeks later, if I would go back to Atlantis! And that you had approved it! Why? Why take me back after everything that happened?"

"Because you're just that good," Rodney replied calmly, the snark and sarcasm suddenly gone. "We need the brilliant people here, and despite all your short-comings on a social level, you are that brilliant."

"Look who's talking about social skills," Calvin growled.

Rodney smirked. "My social skills are debatable, true. But politically I'm not as tone-deaf as you are. Insulting the expedition leader, sending a scathing report back to the SGC that sounds like a whiny kid took your place… that was just plain stupid, Calvin."

He looked away, not meeting the serious blue eyes. "It felt right at the time."

"At the time it happened there was a crisis. Even I know to step back on the personal issues and get the work done," McKay told him, voice harder now. "You complained about what Elizabeth said to you, in front of your team, but because you had to bring it up again everyone remembered it. Shit, Calvin, you are good! You solved the problem with the stuck 'Jumper. You saved our lives!"

"And no one listened to my security concerns!" he cried.

"Because they weren't primary!" Rodney yelled back. "Elizabeth and the others wanted to save the people in the 'Jumper, which included me, thank you!"

"It could have destroyed Atlantis!"

"Yes, and your concerns were noted by her. She made the decision. You have to live with that. Even Sheppard gets read the riot act by her. It's not personal, it never was. You made it that."

Kavanagh briefly buried his face in his hands, then scrubbed them over the pale skin.

"You're a brilliant scientist, Calvin," Rodney repeated. "It's why you came onto the expedition in the first place. Colonel Carter recommended you and I knew you were needed. Your psych profile was okay, too. Anal retentive is something you can live with out here." There was a lop-sided, wry smile on McKay's face. "You're a realist, which is good too. You know your science. What you have done here has affected many people, and I'm not talking about your attitude."

"Ha-ha, McKay. You got the bigger attitude of the two of us."

"I'm the bigger genius."

"Wishful thinking."

Rodney snorted. "Anyway," he concluded, "I wanted you back because of your brain, not your attitude. I can work with that. Hell, I've worked with it for a year before we were back in contact with the SGC. It's why I told O'Neill that if he didn't need you, he should boot you back here."

Pale blue eyes looked at Rodney. "And here I am."

"Yes, here you are. And you won't hear me praising you again like that, so enjoy it while it lasts. And go talk to O'Rourke, damnit!"

Kavanagh chuckled softly. "I wish it was as easy as trading insults with you."

"Hey," Rodney protested. "I'm not easy."

"No, you aren't. And I'm glad to consider you as something close to a friend."

Eyes narrowing, Rodney demanded, "Something close to a friend? What the hell are you talking about?"

Kavanagh pushed his glasses back on and slipped off the chair. "Forget it. I was wrong."

"No. No, wait. Kavanagh!" he barked when the other man wouldn't stop. "There is no such thing as 'close to'. You might be a prick with an attitude 95 % of the time, but I consider you a friend. And I would trust you," he added.

Kavanagh stood there with that pole-axed look on his face. "W-what?"

Rodney scowled. "Like I said, I only say such things once. Suck it up, enjoy it, and straighten out your love-life! This is worse than Simpson's soap operas!"

And he turned back to his work.

Kavanagh looked at the broad back, then staggered out of the lab like in a trance.

 

* * *

 

He didn't miss the sex.

Well, not really. Sex was sex. It meant two people, preferably in bed, and some nice action. Sex was something he could have, if he wanted to, with others. If they wanted him. And who would?

Kavanagh mindlessly stared out the window.

He could think of a few who might be interested, especially when it came to fucking Dr. Attitude Kavanagh. For some it was a power thing, to be the top. Kavanagh had never done it. He preferred bottoming. It gave him a lot more control – and a lot of pleasure.

No, he didn't miss the sex.

He missed… everything else. Allan dropping by the lab, cajoling him away from a project. Dinners or lunches. Sometimes breakfast. Working in comfortable silence in either one's quarters. A game of chess. Movie nights. Simply being together. He missed the warm expression in Allan's eyes, the green so much more intense when he watched him. He missed the hands touching him in a gentle caress. He missed… Allan.

Kavanagh dropped his head against the cool window pane, sighing deeply.

He knew he had hurt the other man, but Allan had had no right… no right at all!

But he was right, a part of him argued.

O'Rourke had triggered something and Kavanagh had simply bitten whatever hand had come too close. He had lashed out and used emotional weapons. He had used Allan's dead partner, a man who had been violently killed by the Goa'uld two years ago, and he had ripped open old wounds. He knew he had. His own were still hurting.

The doctor had left him alone ever since, hadn't attempted to talk to him, meet with him, have dinner or lunch. Kavanagh was deeply hurt, but part of him wouldn't have accepted any peace offerings. He knew that. So either Allan was done with him or he was waiting for Calvin to get his head together and try again.

So what was it?

According to McKay there was his chance, a chance at a relationship, at happiness, but what did McKay know about that? He scoffed softly. Yeah right… McKay, who was together with Sheppard, who seemed happy, who had someone, who was truly close. There was something between those two that Kavanagh had yet to understand. It was tight. It was so close, he doubted anyone, even some hot Ancient chick, could break it. McKay seemed so at ease, not afraid to lose the handsome Colonel to another man or a woman. There was a kind of balance McKay denied he had, but ever since Kavanagh had looked, really looked, he noticed such things.

He pushed away from the window and left his room, aimlessly walking through the City. It was early afternoon, on a Saturday. At least it would be Saturday on Earth. While they had longer days here, they tried to keep a routine. People had days off. Like he had the weekend to himself.

Kavanagh found himself heading toward Allan's quarters, hoping the man was there, and willing to talk to him. When he knocked, he unconsciously held his breath.

The door slid open and he stopped when he discovered the trauma specialist on the couch, legs up, reading. Music played in the background, some instrumental piece Calvin didn't recognize. There was a mug of tea on the table next to him, and every flat surface seemed to contain books, journals and prints. A laptop sat on the floor, the screen saver on.

"Oh. You're busy. I… sorry."

"Actually, I could need a break." Allan gave him a smile and sat up. "You want a tea, too?"

Kavanagh hesitated, eying the stack of journals. He recognized them. He had his own from his department. Most of the important stuff was sent through data bursts whenever the Gate was opened for a few seconds. Stargate travel to Earth was for the VIP stuff or emergencies. Normal supplies and orders were flown in with the Daedalus whenever she came by. Caldwell wasn't a freighter captain and he had a busy schedule. The Daedalus wasn't Atlantis' supply ship, but when she headed that way, there was always something that had been pre-ordered aboard.

"You are busy," he stated.

"Yes. Always. It never ends. Always new discoveries. Not so different from physics."

"Yeah. Well. Yes."

He felt even more awkward.

Allan poured a mug of tea and pushed some things aside to offer him a place to sit down, the mug on the cluttered table.

"I've been thinking," Calvin finally said.

Allan watched silently. He sat down across from Kavanagh, waiting.

"This… thing between us… I mean, I like this. I like us. Together. And you were right. About what you said. About me. I am a victim. I never wanted to feel like one. I never wanted to be one. This man… back when I was in college… he used me. He abused my trust. He… toyed with me. And I let him. Because I loved him. And he dumped me."

He knew he was blabbering and he refused to look at the other man.

"I talked with Heightmeyer. It helped." He laughed wryly. "I never thought it would. And I can deal with it. I have to deal with it. And I have to put it into my past..."

"There's a difference between dealing and coping," O'Rourke said quietly.

Kavanagh raised his eyes and met the compassionate gaze. "There is," he agreed. "And I want to learn how to cope. It will take time. Hell, it took ten years for me to actually start loving again."

"Calvin, I have issues, too. Not just a few." He folded his hands. "Some I… dealt with, but never coped. They might come up sooner or later… and I will need the help of my lover with them, too. Cal… I want to be there for you… because I know I need you to be there for me."

Kavanagh looked at him. Allan O'Rourke had left Earth, like all of them, to come to a whole new galaxy, to explore new worlds. But unlike most of the others he had known exactly what he left behind and what he would come face-to-face with in detail. He didn't have Kavanagh's or McKay's background of a brilliant genius, hired by the SGC. He was a medical doctor and he had volunteered after the Wraith had been discovered, after so much blood and pain and so much impending doom every day.

He had known what he had gotten into. And he had jumped in, with both feet. He had left what he loved… but then again… there had been nothing left. Sean Wallace was dead.

Calvin swallowed hard. Yes, Allan had issues, and they might come up one day. He wanted to be there for this man, because he loved him, he realized.

"I can't be Sean for you," he whispered.

"I don't want a replacement. Nothing can replace what I lost with Sean," Allan answered honestly. "But if you let me, Cal, if you want to be with me, I want to build something with you."

"Allan… I never… I never had a relationship," he blurted.

And that scared him. All the mistakes he could make, all the pain he could deal out without actually wanting to. The past weeks had shown what could happen.

O'Rourke smiled again. "How about step by step? We can figure it out as we go. I'm no expert either, and Sean and I… we fought, too. He was military, I was a medical doctor, a civilian. We had fights. As for us… you're a brilliant mind, Cal. I'm actually scared of this. I listen to you talk and it baffles me. I can't understand what you work on, how your mind works, what it is you're doing. I know you're saving our lives with it against Wraith and Genii and whoever else threatens us. I'm only a medical doctor. I'm no genius."

Kavanagh was dumbstruck. What?!

"I'm scared you'll tire of me, too," Allan went on. "That you want someone playing more in your league. The brainy league. I'm not brilliant, Cal. I'm normal."

"Allan…"

"You fell in love with a brilliant mind," Allan reminded him. "Rodney McKay."

"Not because he's a brilliant astrophysicist! Well, not solely. I mean, he's a genius, but…" Kavanagh blinked as realization hit him again. "Wait a moment! You're afraid that I would dump you?"

Shock was a mild term for what he felt.

It got him a wry smile. "Calvin, I'm only human, too. You are a wonderful man and others will find you attractive, too."

He leaned back, staring. O'Rourke thought he was… attractive and that he would… maybe… some day.. dump him for someone else? It had been Kavanagh's fear. He had thought that this man would only use him as a way to pass a few weeks or months. And now…

"I wouldn't dump you," he managed.

"Not even if Rodney McKay left his Colonel and declared his interest in you?"

"What?! No! No, I don't want him…"

"I'm afraid of living in McKay's shadow, Calvin," the doctor confessed.

"You won't! I always thought… I mean… It was Rodney who kicked my ass into talking to you!" he blurted. "He said to get this straightened out."

Allan smirked. "He did?"

Kavanagh shrugged. "Yeah."

"Calvin… when I decided to risk this step, to offer you more than friendship, I knew about McKay. You told me. We talked about it. And I risked it anyway."

Kavanagh nodded. "Why?" he asked softly.

"Because I thought… hoped… that I had a chance? I hadn't risked anything in a long time and I felt that I could risk this for you. It had a fifty-fifty chance."

The physicist was appalled at this equation. The odds were a lot worse than fifty-fifty. And even fifty-fifty were bad odds. Still, O'Rourke had tried. He had accepted that he might fail and lose.

"And here you are. For a reason," Allan added, smiling faintly.

There was an unspoken question in his words.

Kavanagh stared at his by now cold tea, as if seeking wisdom and knowledge. The ball was in his side of the playing field. He held the power to end this or to take it a step further. O'Rourke had to know that. And he was waiting patiently. Like he had been so patient with everything.

"Why me?" he asked.

"I don't know," was the honest answer. "I came aboard the Daedalus to forget, to leave Earth behind me. To start something new. I never planned on starting another relationship. Losing Sean… I couldn't go through that again. I had told myself that this was it: go to a new galaxy, find something to become my life's work. And then I met you. I liked you and I liked talking to you, attitude aside." Allan grinned a little. "And I wanted to be a friend… despite everything I heard and was told. I liked you enough to open up a part of me that I had thought had died with Sean."

Kavanagh fiddled with his mug. "I liked you, too. I was just afraid that, once in Atlantis, you'd listen to the gossip."

"I don't listen to gossip," Allan repeated what he had said a long time ago.

"Apparently you don't," was the dry reply. "Or we wouldn't be here."

"Probably not."

There was a brief moment of silence, then jade green eyes met pale blue ones.

"I'm afraid. I'm human, too. And sometimes I wake up with nightmares and need someone to hold me, too."

There was a plea in those green eyes that had Kavanagh feel rather dizzy.

"Nightmares?" he stammered, then bit his lower lip. "Oh. About…?"

"Yes. I'm a medical doctor. I know what happened to Sean. I still see it… without ever having seen it."

"Oh. Allan… I… I'm no hero. I don't know if what you expect is what I can be."

"You already are what I need, Calvin. I don't want a hero. Heroes are… there are no true heroes. I want you. As you are. With the attitude and the sharp tongue and the pony-tail and the condescending looks. I want you with me. You're not a replacement. Never was and never will be."

The ball was still his to play. He could stand up and leave, and it would probably cause more hurt and pain than anything else he had ever done before. Or he could surrender to his own emotions, his instinct that Allan wasn't lying through his teeth, and this wasn't some very elaborate and staged joke. No, it couldn't be a joke. Nothing like this could be.

"You're serious."

Allan was probably just a hair's breadth away from rolling his eyes at that statement.

"What do I have to do to convince you, Dr. Calvin Kavanagh? Kiss you senseless?"

Kavanagh felt himself start to smile. "It would be start."

Allan rose slowly and came around to him, his eyes never leaving Kavanagh's, and when their lips met it was the hottest, most loving and deepest kiss Calvin had ever been given by another man. He sank into the couch, pulling O'Rourke with him. When they parted, Allan's eyes were sparkling, and he was hovering above the physicist.

"Have you ever gone camping?" he asked, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Uhm… no…"

"You'd love it. I have my gear with me and I know some guys where I can get more stuff for a weekend on the mainland. Just the two of us. Alone."

Kavanagh felt floored. "Camping?" he echoed weakly.

"Camping. Alone. Only us. With all the time in the world."

Camping, echoed through his mind. He had never… and he didn't know… and wasn't it dangerous?

"Trust me, you'll enjoy it," Allan promised.

"I will?"

"Definitely."

"Uh…"

The smile widened. "Trust me," O'Rourke repeated. "And I'll pack some extra blankets for you."

"I'm not a child!" he protested.

"No, only the newbie," came the teasing reply.

Kavanagh grimaced. But somehow he didn't have the heart or the drive to protest more. The prospect of leaving the lab and everyone, even if it was only for a night or two, was nice. And to be with Allan, even when it was in the wilderness of the mainland… he was looking forward to it.

 

* * *

 

John lay on his stomach, arms flung out, one across the bed, one over his head and hanging down the edge of the mattress. He was still breathing a bit harder than was normal, his body quivering a little now and then. Rodney looked at his lover, one hand running playfully over the warm back, enjoying the soft sigh it got him. He felt very warm and cozy himself, the endorphine high not yet plummeting that badly. The hand slid over the firm buttocks and one finger strayed to the slick cleft, drawing a hitched breath from Sheppard.

//Rodney…//

He knew the other man wasn't up to anything and that he was pretty sore. The past few hours had been decidedly hot, sticky and filled with some pretty good sex. Rodney leaned over the muscular back and placed a kiss between the shoulder blades. His finger still played, but he didn't enter the enticing opening. He stroked gently over it.

//Oh gawd…// John whispered, squirming.

Hazel eyes cracked open and looked pleadingly at him. Rodney took pity and smiled, removing the finger.

//You can't be ready for more// Sheppard groaned.

//I'm not. But I like to touch you. I like the way you moan, John// Rodney said seductively.

The eyes slid closed again. //You're gonna kill me//

//Nope, not my goal in life//

Rodney snuggled down next to the limp form and Sheppard turned on one side, letting McKay spoon up behind him. He sighed in pleasure as he was held firmly, securely, and the Kiowata in him almost purred – even if the alien horse couldn't really purr. Rodney nuzzled one shoulder.

//So, Counselor Troy, how are you faring with Kavanagh?//

“Ugh, bad Star Trek references,” Rodney complained. “I’m not an empath. I just know where to kick good and hard.”

“Confess it, you like him.”

McKay grimaced. That had John smirk, which earned him a dark look.

“I can tolerate him better than before,” Rodney answered evasively.

John yawned.

//Go to sleep// the physicist suggested. His own body was by now announcing that a nap might be really good.

“You just don’t want to discuss Kavanagh.”

“I never wanted to discuss Kavanagh!”

“But you imagined him in the buff,” John pointed out.

Rodney groaned and shook his head. “Sleep. You and me. Now!”

“We just did.”

“Too much sex melts your brain, I see.”

“There’s no such thing as too much sex, Rodney,” was the sleepy reply.

Rodney felt him slip into sleep. He smiled fondly and snuggled into his mattress as well.

No, there wasn’t such a thing as too much sex, as he had learned in the last months. And sex with John Sheppard was… really, really good. Not just the physical part, but everything. The relationship was… it was just them. No doubts, no jealousies, no fights about looking at other people. The Bond was them, only them.

 

* * *

 

O'Rourke and Kavanagh met in the Jumper bay with one of the Marines as a pilot. There were frequent shuttles from the mainland and back to Atlantis. Sometimes for Athosian trade goods, sometimes for medical assistance, sometimes for visiting the mainland for vacations. Kavanagh ignored the quizzical look that was directed at him – he had learned to ignore such things pretty early – and smiled at O’Rourke.

“I cleared this with Dr. Weir. We have two days off,” Allan informed him.

“Two days?” That was… wow.

“Yep. Great, eh? We don’t have to be back until Monday night. Sergeant Miller here will pick us up then, but we have radios in case there’s an emergency and we’re needed. Let’s go.”

 

*

 

“Sergeant, can you touch down there?”

Allan indicated the area he was talking about on the screen.

‘There’ turned out to be a little secluded bay a few hours' walk away of the Athosian’s settlement. Standing in the warm sand of the beach Kavanagh watched the Jumper depart and a little voice inside him asked if he had made the right decision. Strong arms wrapped themselves around his middle, pulling him flush against a familiar hard body.

“Stop that,” Allan whispered in his ear before he nuzzled his neck. “We’re here, we’re alone and we want to enjoy the weekend. Be with me, Cal.”

Sighing softly, he leaned against the body holding him and clasped their hands together, watching the ocean, the beach, the tree line.

“Where are we going?”

“I'll show you.”

Calvin Kavanagh felt like a teenager again when Allan took his hand and pulled him along, toward the line of palm-like trees, bushes and cliffs – and there it was.

It was a wooden hut with a large porch-like structure in front of it, just beneath several large trees, overlooking the ocean. The porch had a ceiling and was propped up on strong wooden posts. Wooden stairs led from the beach to the porch.

“That’s… wow. Did you build that?”

Allan laughed. “No, I didn’t. I'm not that good with tools. I just found and restored it. Don’t know who built it, but I like it. My little hide-way."

Kavanagh frowned. "You've been here how long?"

O'Rourke smiled. "As long as you are, Cal. I just used my free time to explore. I like hiking. I found this when I followed an Athosian's recommendation to hike toward the beach."

"Ah."

"Let’s take a look inside.”

Inside was a square room with large windows and a bed-like platform. Allan opened the shutters letting in more sun and air.

“Here, there’s the mattress. How about you try to light the fire? There’s an open fireplace out there on the porch. I'll go and catch our dinner.”

“I’m not the little wife!” Kavanagh snapped, irritation clear.

That earned him playful kiss.

“No, you’re not, and I don’t picture you as such. But you’re the genius who figures out things and I’m the physician who’s used to handle little sharp objects. Therefore I fish and you… figure out where you wanna sleep and how to make fire. And I actually know how to fish.”

Allan winked at him and went off to the shore, leaving him to explore the hut or however this thing was called. Lighting the fire was a matter of barely a minute, since he knew exactly how to handle a lighter. The mattress Allan had spoken about was a soft velour air mattress which had a little motor to inflate it. He placed it on the platform, smiling when he noticed that it was far wider than the beds on Atlantis. Kavanagh dug for the blankets and plates, walking out on the porch to look for his lover. Allan had picked a remote and, yes, admit it, romantic place and had arranged time for them alone.

All of this was overwhelming and the pessimist and wary creature inside him warned him about it all.

For the first time he didn't listen.

 

* * *

 

Leaning against the wall Calvin took a sip from the wine Allan had brought – the man had thought about everything obviously – and watched the moon creep over the horizon. There weren’t any crickets here on the beach, but now and then a night bird could be heard in the distance and there was the ever present sound of the waves splashing against the shore. They did have that on Atlantis, too, but strangely it was a different sound.

Allan leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his lips and play with his ponytail, letting the curly waves glide through his finger. The firelight was doing interesting things to his skin and eyes, making them glitter like little green gems. Tooth-achingly romantic. He loved it.

Kavanagh liked to keep the hair together, even when he was in bed, mainly because it tended to go all over the place. He had naturally wavy hair and when he had let it grow out in a bout of rebellion, he had found he needed to tame it – or look like some unwashed street bum.

“Cal? May I?” Allan asked suddenly.

“What?”

“This.” He tugged at the black rubber band holding his hair back. “I’ve never seen you without this, not even in bed. I’d like to see you. May I?”

Looking into his lover’s sincere eyes Calvin reached behind himself and undid the band. The moment he shook his head the auburn locks cascaded around his face. There was an intake of breath from his lover as Allan carded his fingers through the long strands, pulling him close into a not at all shy kiss. He found himself stretched out on his back, blanketed by Allan’s body, coaxed into opening his mouth for a very clever tongue.

“I want to love you, Cal. Have you ever made love under the stars?”

All he could do was shake his head. “I’ve never made love at all. I fucked.”

Allan propped himself up on his elbows, and there was this intense expression in the green eyes that was much more than just the reflection of fire or moonlight.

“Let’s change that,” he muttered very softly and then the lips were back on his own, gently teasing, coaxing, patiently asking but never demanding.

Allan’s hands mapped his body as if he’d never seen it before, explored it like it was the most precious thing in two galaxies, paid attention to hot spots Calvin hadn’t even known he had, kissed and nipped every inch, made him arch and writhe and tremble, sob and cry and whimper and yes, in the end even beg. And this night Calvin Jason Kavanagh, brilliant scientist and owner of three PhD’s, discovered the true meaning of the terms ‘being seduced’ and ‘making love’.

 

* * *

 

Make-up sex was… good. Really, really good. Calvin rolled onto his side and suppressed a wince as his sore behind reminded him of just how good it had been. He didn't mind or care, though. He was too pleasantly relaxed and satisfied to give a damn. And looking at the tall, lean form of Allan O'Rourke, stretched out beside him, he couldn't but smile softly. O'Rourke smiled back, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss.

"You have a really wonderful smile," the doctor whispered against his lips. "And I love your eyes. You shouldn't hide behind the glasses."

Kavanagh drew back to gaze at his lover without becoming cross-eyed. He knew he didn't need his glasses all the time. It was just so much easier to read computer screens or fiddle with the tiny stuff, and to hide. Especially to hide.

Allan smiled warmly, tracing one cheek up to the cheekbone and to the eyes with tender fingers.

"Have you ever thought about contacts?"

He had. Sometimes. Way back in the past. He had discarded the idea. The glasses gave him an air of distance, coupled with knowledge, with intelligence, with age. To lose that…

"It's an image," O'Rourke said, apparently reading his eyes correctly.

"It's me."

"No. The glasses aren't you. You don't want to fit in and look geeky, Cal. Be yourself."

"I am myself."

"With me, yes. Out there you hide."

Kavanagh sighed softly and let himself be coaxed into an embrace. Allan's hands wandered over his back, drawing aimless patterns.

Camping wasn't really all that bad. He had to get used to the fact that there was no running water, no electricity, but the bay and a generator helped. The hut was large, the mattresses rather comfortable. Part of him reminded Calvin that Rodney McKay had roughed it for three months, under worse circumstances, without a luxury hut or mattresses. He had survived. So he would survive a weekend with his lover.

Allan let his fingers run through the hair, smiling to himself.

"I like this," he murmured.

"Huh?"

"The hair. It's nice. I like it so long."

"Uh-huh."

"No, really. It fits you."

O'Rourke proceeded to trail kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Calvin enjoyed the attention. It made him all lazy and tingly in one. Allan was a considerate lover, so totally centered and balanced it sometimes threw him off balance himself. No one could be that grounded, he mused, without growing roots. But the doctor had his own shadows, his own nightmares, and Kavanagh knew he would meet them someday.

"What do you want to do today?" Allan asked. "Swim? Hike? Laze around?" The last was said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Kavanagh smirked, but without sarcasm and malice. "Laze around?" he echoed. "Is that the medical term for fucking me senseless?"

"Hm, could be. Have to look it up. And I like being with you, Calvin. Inside you." O'Rourke gazed at him. "Have you ever topped?"

He tensed a little. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious. I'm not an exclusive top. I switched before. I like topping, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to force you into a role you might not be comfortable with."

Kavanagh rolled them around, amazed by the consideration Allan gave him. It wasn't something he was used to.

"You think too much about what I might like, Allan."

"I tend to. I want my partner to enjoy himself."

"Have you heard me complaining?"

"No…"

"I'm not. I like bottoming."

"Have you ever topped?"

He grimaced. Armbruster had been the dominating part of their relationship and he had never given a young Calvin any doubt about it.

"No."

Surprise flitted over the handsome features. "Never?"

"No. Armbruster was an exclusive and dominant top. Later… well, those were flings."

Turn around, spread your legs, go through the motions. Just a fuck, to feel this again, to be there again, in that blissful moment – until realization hit him afterwards, leaving him cold and lonely.

"Would you want to?"

He blinked, caught by surprise. "Allan…?"

"I told you I switched before. I like both ways. If you want…?"

The very idea gave him a strange feeling. He knew what to do when his lover penetrated him. He was in control of the speed, the rhythm, and he could bring the other man off by squeezing his internal muscles. While the top did mostly really top, it was the bottom who set the pace and called the shots. To suddenly change that… it frightened him a little.

"I'm happy as it is," he said vaguely.

Allan gave him a smile. "Okay. Just checking. But you know I'm open for something new, so if you ever think about it, tell me."

"Uh, sure."

The next kiss was almost apologetic, deepening into something more intense within a minute. Kavanagh drew back and chuckled.

"I think lazing around is a good description for the rest of the weekend."

"Unless I can convince you to take a swim with me. The water's really nice and there are no dangerous animals."

Fingers played over his chest, following the long lines of the still red scars of the Wraith feeding. Kavanagh tensed a little, but he didn't push Allan away like he had done before. He let his lover explore the healed flesh, skin that O'Rourke had sewn together, where he had removed the stitches, and Calvin closed his eyes. The nightmare of the Wraith was still there, but he had talked with Heightmeyer about it and it had helped. Many had had such encounters, terrifying and nightmarish, but aside from him no one had come back from a feeding. Abrams had died. Gaul had taken his life. So many more had vanished as victims.

"Cal," Allan murmured soothingly.

He caught the exploring fingers and pulled the other man close, kissing him feverishly.

Oh yes, he would be very sore, Kavanagh thought, smiling to himself. And he didn't care at all because after each time he didn't have the sensation of being lonely and cold any more.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t know what had woken him, but the enticing scent that tickled his nostrils might very well be a reason. Coffee. Real coffee. Allan sighed softly and rolled around only to find himself alone in bed. Well, duh, someone must have prepared the coffee and since it hadn’t been him…

Glancing out onto the porch he felt his breath catch. There, watching the first golden rays of sun flowing over the ocean, sat his lover, oblivious to being watched himself. One jeans clad leg dangling over the edge of the porch, resting his arm on the other bent knee, the cool morning breeze flapping the open shirt and playing with the still unfastened curls. Steaming coffee mug sitting beside him, Calvin looked as if the years stolen by the Wraith had been given back -- with interest. There was a slight beard shadow, but other than that he looked – young.

Relieved. Contemplative. Unguarded.

That very moment Allan O'Rourke fell in love all over again.

He searched in his backpack. He retrieved a small digital camera and activated it. It didn't take him more than five seconds to safe several images of his lover on the card.

 

* * *

 

They returned with the last shuttle from the mainland and Kavanagh wondered briefly what anyone thought about him spending a camping trip with their new trauma specialist. He pushed that thought aside. He had stopped caring what others thought about him. It was when he had been branded a traitor in the wake of the Goa'uld threat and the bomb in Atlantis. Weir had made it clear that she immediately put him to the top of her list of suspects and would have thrown him in the brig, too.

Still, here he was. Once again. Back in Atlantis.

And he had found happiness. Not with the man he had dreamed about, but someone completely different.

Kavanagh walked into the lab, lost in thought, heading for his desk. He would gather a few things, then head over to the test lab where he was running simulations for a project McKay had dumped into his lap a few days ago. It was as annoying as it was interesting.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Kavanagh blinked and found Rodney staring at him, then the blue eyes narrowed.

"Did someone steal your razor? Or is this the new and improved Kavanagh?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the physicist demanded.

"The scruff. And you forgot your glasses."

Oh damn. He touched one unshaven cheek and glared at McKay, daring him to continue commenting. Well, he did. This was McKay after all.

"Must be a boyfriend thing then. Does O'Rourke prefer it rough?"

Good god, shot through Kavanagh's head. He was glad they were alone.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

McKay tilted his head, smirking. "Well, the scruff… debatable. The glasses… takes some getting used to. As long as you don't cross your equations or run into doors."

"I can see just fine!" Kavanagh snapped.

"Then why wear them in the first place?"

That had him speechless for a moment, then he growled something under his breath and shouldered past the other man, walking toward his desk.

"None of your business," Calvin muttered and grabbed a few things.

When he turned, Rodney was grinning. He let his eyes run down Kavanagh's frame. Calvin knew he hadn't dressed in his uniform. He was still in the jeans and a rather figure-hugging t-shirt he had worn when they had flown back this morning. There had been no time to change clothes. He had just thrown his things into his quarters and made for the lab.

"What?"

"O'Rourke becomes you," was all he said.

Something angry flared inside Kavanagh, something that yelled that this was none of McKay's business, but another part could only agree. Allan was good for him, no doubt about it. That weekend had been incredible.

"This is how I remember you," Rodney added, voice softer.

"W-what? You… you remember me?"

"Yes. Took a moment, but I do. We met before Atlantis. It was a long time ago. I met a young, bright, enthusiastic student with a pony-tail who picked my brain for a whole day, who wouldn't stop asking questions or debating with me." Rodney's smirked more now. "And who stared at my ass."

Kavanagh felt a furious blush creep up his cheeks. "That was ten years ago."

"Doesn't change that I thought back then that you were cute, in a geeky, lanky, teenage sort of way. The way I see you now, it's the grown-up version of the young man I met then."

Kavanagh felt rattled, shaken. "You thought I was cute?!"

Rodney shrugged. "Yeah. Back then. You were eye candy. Look, enjoy, but that was all. You were a student, Calvin. I never started anything with a student; ever. You weren't my type either. Too young. Today you're an annoying ass."

"McKay…"

"You got yours, I got mine. Let's just leave it at that."

"You just told me you thought I was cute, McKay!" Kavanagh snapped. "And you want to simply leave it at that?"

"Yep. And looking at you now, you're back. O'Rourke gives you that, hm?"

He looked away.

"Hey, it's not bad. I think it's good actually."

"You changed, too," Calvin finally said almost defensively.

Rodney frowned. "What?"

"Not just because of Sheppard, but before already. And after you came back from M7B-377 it was even more so." He smiled a little. "Good changes."

"Uhm, well, yes. Maybe. This isn't about me."

"It is. At least for me. You convinced me to stay and I have to thank you for all of this." Kavanagh gave the other man an open smile. "I think Atlantis was the better of my two choices. At least now I can call two people here friends."

"I hope O'Rourke's more than that," McKay remarked.

"He is. Thanks."

Kavanagh left after that, not waiting for a reply. He was happy here. He liked being back in Atlantis. Whatever happened now.

 

* * *

 

//What the heck are you doing, flirting with Kavanagh?"

The voice in his head was anything but calm and controlled. It was actually filled with outrage and anger, which surprised Rodney.

//Flirting? What are you talking about?//

//You're flirting, making him compliments, making him blush, for god's sake!// John snarled.

//That's not flirting!// Rodney snapped in annoyance.

//Then what is it?//

//I, well, yes, I'm just… He's not my type!//

//You just told him you thought he was cute!//

//So?//

//That's making compliments just before you want his ass!//

//John, you're being unreasonably jealous//

//I'm not!//

//This is Kavanagh we're talking about// McKay said wryly, reminding himself that this wasn’t real jealousy. Sheppard knew he wasn’t straying. This was just… John. John reminding him that Kavanagh had been interested. Had been – past tense.

//Yes, I know! The man who lusted after you!//

//Right! Lusted. Past tense. Translation: not any more!//

//You're not helping that past tense by making him compliments//

Rodney rolled his eyes. //Oh grow up! He has his doctor, I've got my Colonel//

Sheppard was silent for a moment. //Do I know that Colonel?// he finally asked suspiciously.

//Aw, Sheppard, really! Brain like a sieve. I wonder how you could ever make it through the MENSA test. You met him before. Tall, dark and handsome, messy hair, got compensation issues because he likes to brandish his big gun, has a kink or two that have to do with bestiality…//

//What?!//

Rodney smirked more. //John, I love you. Only you. Even if there wasn't a you, I wouldn't fall for Kavanagh. He was a cute kid, a very eager study puppy, and he had the brain to become something. Armbruster hurt him a lot and he's just now getting back to who he was back then, ten years ago. I wouldn't dump you for anyone, and looking at Calvin, I doubt he would leave O'Rourke//

//Even if he could have you?// Sheppard asked quietly.

//Even then. Remember what Standish said. This is it. Exclusive. Only us. I'm not jealous of the women swooning around you, so stop being such a child about Kavanagh//

//You don't have to be jealous// Sheppard murmured.

//I know. Neither do you//

Silence reigned the link and Rodney briefly checked on where Sheppard was, trying to pick up fragments of a location. He found his lover was in the exercise room, alone. He got a shiver of the Kiowata, the doubt that had momentarily raised its ugly head, and he sighed softly. It was one way to really deliver a blow, to hurt John.

//We're bonded// he sent. //It means more than a vow and a ring. Forget the ring. Don't want one. Those things tend to get lost in drains or stuck in delicate circuitry when you least expect it. Anyway… the bond is special. It's only you and me…//

John leaned in and Rodney gave him a virtual hug.

//Sorry//

//Hey, I'm touched you think I'd drop the most gorgeous and handsome man on the whole of Atlantis, the man women drool after, to go for Kavanagh//

Sheppard's presence rippled with the compliment and Rodney smiled.

//Tonight?// his lover asked, hope in his mind-voice.

McKay let his eyes sweep over the work he had to do, then considered the conversation of the past minutes. He didn't really have to think long.

//Tonight// he promised. //Barring any catastrophes//

John acknowledged, then they both carefully shielded their more active presence from the other to continue their projects or work.

 

* * *

 

It was later that same day, actually close to midnight after a successful test of the Ancient generators, that Rodney looked at his lover, frowning.

"You really think I'd dump you? For Kavanagh of all people?" he asked out of the blue.

They lay together in John's quarters, watching the third season of Friends. Cadman had given it to John after a lot of wheedling and a hefty fee of powerbars, chocolate and the promise to stop looking at her with such puppy eyes.

Sheppard only shrugged.

"I wouldn't, John," Rodney told him firmly.

"Because of the bond."

That had him stop for a moment, then anger bubbled up and he sat abruptly, dislodging the other man. McKay looked down at his rather startled lover.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Colonel? You think I'm only here because of some freaky Ancient machine and my love of animals?"

"Rodney…"

"I'm not!" he continued, ignoring the attempt to interrupt him. "I found you quite nice on the eyes before that. I wouldn't have minded you and me together, but I knew this wouldn't happen because… because of many things! I didn't even know if you swung that way!" Rodney made an abrupt gesture, getting back on the topic. "Anyway, I'm not drooling after other men! Nor women! I'm drooling after you and only you, bond or no bond!"

Sheppard placed a finger on his lips, stilling the runaway mouth. He smiled almost shyly.

"Okay, I get it. I was just… kinda worried, you know."

"Because of Kavanagh?!"

The smile turned sheepish. "Kinda. He… he changed and I know he was after your ass before."

"Good god, grant me the patience I need!" Rodney exclaimed. "I didn't go through three months of personal, unhygienic and mental hell, not to mention the weeks after that when you decided it was all just a bad dream and wanted to push it away, only to run after the next best available ass I can get my hands on!"

"Okay."

"Okay?" Rodney gave the other man a suspicious look.

"Yeah." John smiled.

The suspicion grew. "That was easy."

"Told you I'm easy."

"It was a lie back then and it's a lie now. You're high maintenance," Rodney groused, but he lay back down and Sheppard happily made himself comfortable next to his lover.

"But you love me."

"God knows why, too," was the muttered reply.

//I love you, too// John sent.

//Are we done contemplating my theoretical infidelity plans with obnoxious pricks I detest?//

//You like him//

Rodney grumbled. //Okay, so it's obnoxious pricks I'm starting to like//

//And you think I'm obnoxious, too//

//You're annoying. Like right now// Blue eyes flashed a warning.

John grinned widely and kissed him. Rodney had no chance to stay angry. He just kissed back, softly, languidly, stroking a hand over his sensual lover's flank.

 

* * *

 

Normalcy was… nice. It had taken long enough in Rodney's opinion. It had taken weeks after the Wraith attack that had cost Kavanagh five years. Weeks after his former arch rival had finally decided to turn his life around. Weeks after Calvin Kavanagh had allowed himself to become involved with someone, with Dr. Allan O'Rourke.

Yes, normalcy was pretty nice.

Rodney had chosen to spend the day reading through the reports that were piling up in his inbox. He had delegated work to whoever hadn't been fast enough to escape him, and Zelenka would fill in for Questions That Couldn't Wait. McKay was in his own quarters because his office was overflowing with projects and people easily found him there. His quarters held an 'Off Limits' touch.

John had decided it was a good idea to flee from subordinates who pestered their superior officers with meaningless things, leaving that to Lorne, and had taken his own work load to Rodney's place. So the two men could be found sitting at the desk or on the bed, feet up, laptops and books around them, working silently. Sometimes the silence was interrupted by Rodney's groans and mutterings, but Sheppard had long since learned to ignore that in favor of his work. Should something be really important, Rodney would make himself known in another fashion. And it wasn't as if astrophysics and military command structure had much in common.

Aside from the chief scientist and the chief military officer being an item.

And mind linked.

"What the fuck?!" Rodney suddenly exclaimed.

The expletive had Sheppard look up from his laptop and frown a little. Rodney furiously scrolled through the data and his eyes widened more and more.

"I don't believe it!" the physicist muttered again and again. "I don't believe this! It's… hot damn!"

"Rodney?" John asked carefully.

McKay looked up, eyes filled with disbelief and something akin to awe.

“Kavanagh! This is… damn! He wrote a paper… And… I don't believe it!"

"Rodney, calm down."

"Calm down?!" Rodney's voice rose. "About this? Not likely, John. So not likely! This is about energy signatures and their probable effects on time and space by rotating gravity masses and event horizons!" he blurted. "And… whoa!”

“What?”

Sheppard's grasp of astrophysics was rather limited. Math was more his playing field.

“Black holes, John. Oscillating black holes, to be precise!”

“I repeat – what?”

Rodney sighed. “You know how a wormhole works? Event horizon and all?”

John nodded.

“Okay, it is theorized that a wormhole is established between two black holes and can’t be stabilized. That we already know is big BS, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. But the topic of black holes in itself is a whole different ballgame. Did you know that some of them are spinning?”

“Spinning? Like this toy for children? A spinning top?”

“Exactly. Or a gyroscope. Now, around a black hole you find a phenomenon that is called 'accretion'. Think of it like draining your bathtub. And then there is 'frame dragging'. Frame dragging becomes so extreme as you approach the event horizon of a rotating black hole that at a certain distance, the so called 'static limit', all bodies must orbit a rotating black hole. The effect intensifies until at the horizon itself, there's no place to go but into the hole.”

“Wow. So once you’ve neared a black hole…?”

“There will be a point of no return – the event horizon. The size of the event horizon is determined solely by the mass and spin of the black hole," Rodney gesticulated, imitating a spin. "Now imagine two black holes meeting each other. If they were to orbit around each other as each of it contains the frame dragging phenomenon a lot of energy in the form of gravity waves would be emitted.

If they were to near each other over time more and more energy will leak out of the system, until the two objects merge. For an outside observer it would appear that the smaller one was swallowed by the larger, but it really is a merger around their common center of mass.”

John nodded. He could follow that far. “So, they would merge and the event horizon would grow according to the new higher mass?”

“Exactly! The Schwartzschild radius… well, let’s not go there," Rodney made an abortive move with one hand. "But, imagine not only a spinning, but a wandering black hole. And its effect on a wormhole.”

“Like the Stargate?” Sheppard hazarded a guess.

“Like the Stargate.”

“It would… uhm…?“

“Merge, John.”

“But wouldn’t have the Gate to be active at that time?”

“Yes, it would. The effects of merging a wormhole with a black hole wouldn’t be predictable, it could either eradicate the Gate or increase its energy. But John, the most important thing is, he figured out what happened to the Chimera! There could very well have been a wandering black hole, influencing the wormhole they were using between Jumps by, well, dragging it toward it. And he theorized even more – since this effect ebbed and increased over time the black hole must oscillate around space like… like a comet. Which means…“

“Whatever is in its gravity radius…

“Will be swallowed sooner or later. Who knows how much it swallowed already? And if it is now in their galaxy, maybe its paths crossed this planet's once, way in the past. Around the time the Ancients managed to punch a hole into space and connected, ever so briefly, with the Chimera galaxy!"

The possibilities! They were endless. Rodney couldn't believe that he hadn't heard about this from Kavanagh before. All scientists had access to the data extracted from the Ancient database by Ezra Standish. Many were happily immersed in all kinds of ancient logs, other were working on the data stream of the probe from the Chimera galaxy. Rodney had had too much to do on his own to spend much time with that mountain of new things, but he had his people for it.

"There’s even more,“ he now added.

“More?” John asked, feeling his head spin a little. Sure, he had passed the MENSA-test and knew his IQ was far higher than 130, but still…

“There were theories – very far fetched I may add – about using a black hole as a source of energy, which with human technology is simply impossible. The most difficult thing in those theories, apart from the energy needed to contain a black hole, was to find one. Now, if there are such things as wandering black holes, their path can be determined. And predicted. And with Ancient technology…“

“…like the Gates…” John muttered, feeling understanding dawn.

“John, Kavanagh wrote about the possibilities of taming a black hole with Gate technology."

John sat down hard, letting the words roll in his mind all over again. “Taming a black hole? Whatever for?”

“Almost infinite energy resources, Gate ranges we couldn’t even imagine, reaching more distant galaxies… the results are unbelievable right now. This paper,” he pointed toward the laptop, “is gold. If it works, that is.”

John watched Rodney, his blue eyes wide and glittering, his hands flying all over the place while he paced with barely concealed excitement.

"And he gave it to you," he said softly.

"And he gave... wait, you're right. He gave it to me. Why did he give it to me?" Rodney blinked in honest confusion.

"Maybe because he trusts you?"

This had Rodney become very still as he looked at John with wide eyes. “You think?”

“Yes. You've become friends, haven’t you?”

“Well, in a way. He doesn’t always complain anymore, and he’s become more approachable.”

“He’s settled, Rodney. The fact that he gave you this paper without even jabbering about it to everybody who wants to know and everybody who doesn’t, what does that tell you?”

“He… trusts me?”

John nodded. And watched Rodney, watched several emotions that ran over the expressive face.

“He trusts me? Ha! I have to talk to him. I bet he hasn’t even run more than one simulation. And that equation on page twenty is good and nice, but the conclusions are …”

John grinned as the rest of the sentence faded with his lover storming out of the room, almost pitying Kavanagh.

Oh well. He had it coming.

 

* * *

 

“Kavanagh!”

Everybody in the mess hall started as McKay stormed into the room, slamming a laptop onto the table in front of a very shocked Calvin Kavanagh. There were some grins and whispers but they were all watching the impending doom.

“Wandering black holes?!”

Kavanagh blinked, leaning back a little.

“Yes?” he said defensively.

“Are you totally nuts?”

“No, I’m not,” he snapped angrily, ”this is… “

“… utterly brilliant, and if it weren’t for your boyfriend and mine, I’d kiss you right now. Did you run simulations?”

“I … you what?”

“Simulations, Kavanagh. Imitation, replication, virtual creation of theoretical processes? No? Thought as much. Come on.”

Kavanagh blinked again and glanced after the retreating form of one Rodney McKay.

“I don’t have all day, Kavanagh!”

Calvin snorted and stormed after him.

“Of course I ran simulations, you moron. What kind of scientist do you think I am?”

“One who needs practice?”

“McKay…”

 

 

//Boyfriend, Rodney?” he heard the amused voice of his lover over the bond.

//Yeah well, what was I supposed to say? Lover?//

//How about – I don’t know – nothing?//

//Huh?//

//Rodney, you do realize you just outed us to the whole of Atlantis? And you outed Kavanagh, too?//

//I so didn't! Everyone knows already//

//Really?//

//Yes, really, Colonel//

//Us, too?//

//What planet do you live on?// Rodney muttered. //You think we're still a secret? We live in a closed society with people who've known you, and me, for years now!//

Sheppard was silent. Rodney finally turned his attention fully on his lover, frowning.

//You now about Peterson and Eads?//

//Uh, sure//

//And Wingate and Marrinan?//

//Yeah?//

//Who told you?//

John frowned. //No one. I just… well, heard?//

Rodney smiled triumphantly. //See? And they heard about us. Maybe not everyone, but many. Is that a problem?// he asked carefully.

//Yes. No. I don't know//

//Are you having homophobic tendencies or is this the Kiowata instinct?//

//You don't have a problem with people knowing?// Sheppard wanted to know.

//I don't have a problem with whatever people tend to think about me// Rodney shot back. //I'm used to it. Look at the geek// he quoted.

He suddenly stopped and Kavanagh nearly ran into him. There was a strange expression in the pale blue eyes and he was giving Rodney a narrow-eyed look.

"You go ahead," Rodney said out loud. "I need to straighten something out first."

"Uh, okay."

"Literally," McKay snarled and stalked off in search of his lover.

 

* * *

 

"I thought we hid it," Sheppard muttered.

"Uh-huh. Hidden it. I think there were rumors about us being a couple long before we actually became one."

"What?!"

Rodney shrugged. "Like I said, I don't care. I never listen to rumors. Well, most of them. Those were interesting. And if you think your Marines and pilots won't listen to you anymore, have you seen them act differently?"

Sheppard shrugged. "I thought it was a secret."

"It isn't. Deal with it. We were out long before we were actually together."

John groaned and let his head sink back. "This is so… so… weird."

"No more weird than anything else that happened here in the last two years. As for Kavanagh, you really – really! – think that anyone was in doubt about his tendencies after he and O'Rourke spent the weekend on the mainland? Miller has a big mouth. And O'Rourke made it clear to a few nurses that he isn't into women, so that rumor mill was quite active, too."

Sheppard's eyes narrowed. "And you hear all that, in your lab, which you never leave except for dire emergencies?"

Rodney smiled. "Yep. The Inside Man, that's me. I have my sources."

"Uh-huh."

"So, we're good? You okay?"

Sheppard nodded. "Takes some getting used to. Like many things. But I'm flexible."

Rodney smirked. "That you are."

John gave him a narrow-eyed look, but there was humor dancing in his eyes.

"Go. Kavanagh is probably wondering where you went off to."

Rodney drew him into a small, reassuring kiss. "You okay?" he wanted to know again.

"I'm fine."

Blue eyes narrowed, but John just kissed him again.

"Really fine."

Rodney left, the link still open enough to keep an eye on things. Sheppard returned to his own work and McKay walked into the lab where Kavanagh was waiting. The other man had his arms crossed in front of his chest, a smirk on his lips, and the pale blue eyes sparked with taunting humor.

"Had to get your rocks off?" he asked.

Rodney gave him a glare for good measure and old times' sake. "Don't draw conclusions concerning me just because your doctor didn't let you have any last night," he snapped.

Kavanagh flushed, but not with embarrassment, more with anger. Rodney ignored him and set up his laptop.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he demanded, changing the topic away from sexual relationships. Apparently teasing Kavanagh about his hit a few sore spots.

"It was my project," the physicist defended himself.

"And I'm the lead scientist here. I need to know."

"You do now!"

Rodney studied him, then nodded briefly. "Okay, now I know. Now I also want to know about simulations and what kind you ran. As fascinating as this reads, there are hiccups."

Another flush, this time the touchy outrage of being criticized about his work. Rodney knew Kavanagh was brilliant and unlike some of the staff here he would test something thoroughly, but this was groundbreaking, involving data they had yet to really understand and analyze. One paper wasn't enough and it would probably take them some more time to get to the point where they could really draw conclusions.

"I didn't mess up!" Kavanagh snapped.

"I didn't say you did. I said there are a few things that jumped out at me while I was reading this and I want you to a) explain it and b) prove it in a model." Rodney gave him an expectant look.

Kavanagh took two mental steps back, then nodded, face relaxing a little more.

"Calvin," Rodney added softly, startling him. "I'm not here to tear your work apart. This is incredible stuff. Ground-breaking and revolutionary." He regarded the other man evenly. "I'm here to help."

Kavanagh's face underwent several expressions, then stubbornness settled in. "I'm not a freshman, McKay! I don't need coddling!"

"Of course not. And I don't coddle. I'm here to help you."

Kavanagh was visibly gritting his teeth, then he finally relaxed. He briefly closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I've logged down my models and tests," he said, voice more even now. "I can show you."

McKay nodded, keeping a suspicious eye on him, but when both men slipped into research and test mode, he fully concentrated on Kavanagh's theories.

 

 

In the back of his mind he felt John presence, humming, pulsing, simply there. Rodney had to smile at that, at everything he had gained through this unusual connection between lovers and friends. It had its advantages, just like it had its disadvantage, and not everything would be flowers and hearts and pink clouds.

But it was good.

He loved it. He needed it. Like he needed John.

The warm pulse intensified for a moment and it felt like someone hugging him.

//Love you, too// he sent.

It was echoed in every way the bond could.

 

 

In his own office, Sheppard smiled fondly, then forcefully turned back to personnel evaluations.

 

 


	4. Epilogue

* * *

 

 

IV. Epilogue

 

“Incoming Wormhole. Unscheduled activity.”

Elizabeth Weir frowned and walked to the Lieutenant’s side. There were no off world teams and no one was expected to try and contact Atlantis.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Receiving a transmission, Ma’am. Unknown source.”

Elizabeth frowned.

"It's a data burst," McKay could be heard.

Rodney was typing furiously on his laptop, running a diagnostic and at the same time concentrating on the readouts from the Ancient mainframe system.

They weren't expecting data bursts either.

"Where from?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Working on it," Rodney answered absent-mindedly. "It wasn't even a second long, but the Gate's still open…"

As if to prove him wrong, the event horizon collapsed and the wormhole disappeared. There was a whole second of silence, then the normal conversation level rose again. People were talking about readings and the unscheduled activity.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth repeated her question.

"I'm still decoding the… whoa!"

"Rodney?" This time she walked over to him, looking over his shoulder at the screen that showed her a compressed file of unknown origin.

"It's… huge. Good god, that thing contains more data than the National Library!"

"Where did it come from? What's in it?"

Rodney frowned. "No clue yet. It'll take a while to crack the code and…" He stopped, eyes widening. "Oh…"

"Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth prompted.

"It's… addressed to me," he answered faintly.

That ha Elizabeth stop and stare at the screen, then at Rodney.

"Dr. Rodney McKay, Atlantis expedition team," Rodney read, voice a bit uneven.

//Rodney? Anything you might wanna tell us?// Sheppard could be heard.

He hadn't been there when the Gate had initially opened and was just now coming up the stairs. There was a worried expression on his face.

//Later. Need to see the data// was Rodney's weak answer.

“Rodney?”

"I need to get this to my lab. Take a look at it. Read it all," Rodney said out loud.

"This isn't from the Genii, right?" Sheppard demanded.

"What? No. Not the Genii. No. Not them." Rodney keyed in a command to transfer the data to his computer lab. "I'll get back to you, okay?"

//Rodney?//

Now there was worry in John's voice and Rodney briefly smiled at him, though it was a shadow of his normal smile. Elizabeth just nodded at Sheppard to accompany their head scientist, just in case, and he did.

 

* * *

There was a massive amount of pure data in the message. Sheppard had no idea about data transfer and bursts, compressed files and whatnot, but he understood that what had come through the wormhole had both been a lot and in a very brief time, too. Rodney had immediately started to sift through the data and from his growing excitement, John took the hint that this wasn't just a simple hello.

"It's from them!" he finally exclaimed.

"Who's 'them'?"

"The Chimera!"

Sheppard stared at his lover, then sat down. "Really? Larabee and his team? They made it?"

Rodney nodded and turned back to the screen. "And there's a voice message, too!"

“Let’s hear it.

 

“This is a message for Dr. Rodney McKay and Colonel John Sheppard from Commander Christopher Larabee. Just wanted to let you know that we made it safe and sound back home. Was kind of a bumpy ride, but we’re home. The wormhole collapsed soon after we were through but we managed to get some readings. Had our scientists in a fit for quite some time, I can tell you. Think you guys would like it, too, that’s why we sent it back to you. With a little something on the side.”

 

“What the hell does he mean with a little something at the side?” John asked confused.

And he got even more confused when Rodney suddenly became very, very still.

//John…// he breathed.

//Rodney?//

//They… they had telemetry readings from their flight. And… oh my god!//

//Rodney? What is it?!//

Very wide blue eyes looked at him in utter astonishment.

//This symbols, John. Look familiar?//

And then it was his turn to become wide-eyed.

//Eight symbols, Rodney? Is this what I think it is?//

“Yes, John, it’s a Gate address. They built their own Stargate. From scrap. And they invited us to dinner//

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
